


trouble is (i don't wanna let go)

by adverbialstarlight



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Action/Adventure, Adam Parrish is Bad at Feelings, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Exes, Flashbacks, Friends to Lovers, Getting Back Together, Kidnapping, M/M, Minor Violence, Mystery, Ronan Lynch is Bad at Feelings, Secret Identity, Superheroes, TRC Big Bang 2020, also a lot there, as per usual, call down the hawk characters, i guess, lot of em, off-screen mostly!!, ronan-typical swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:06:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 31,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25496548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adverbialstarlight/pseuds/adverbialstarlight
Summary: It's been two years since Henrietta's infamous supervillain, Apothecary, disappeared from the streets and left the beloved hero Greywaren alone without his nemesis -- and former secret lover. But now he's back and determined, this time to team up and save the city from an even larger threat.aka a pynch superhero au
Relationships: Minor or Background Relationship(s), Ronan Lynch/Adam Parrish
Comments: 15
Kudos: 50
Collections: TRC Big Bang 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hi this is my TRC bang fic! shout out to everyone who participated and my fellow mods for putting up with my bullshit, this event was a lot of fun. biggest thanks however goes to my artists, [Vy](https://ladvy.tumblr.com/) and [Cami](https://gouachemole.tumblr.com/), who both made absolutely incredible illustrations for this (and Vy's heard me talk about an au like this since forever) and [Sara](https://violettfemme.tumblr.com/) for putting up with my slow writing and weird grammar. the last 3 chapters will be posted next week!
> 
> title from trouble is by all time low. i've realized that ALL of my trc/pynch fics have been titled after a wake up sunshine song but hey the album fits them man

_Once upon a time, there was a superhero and a supervillain. They were sworn nemeses, matched in strength but always on opposing sides. But one day they fell in love. For three years they were together happily, blissfully in love despite keeping up their combative facade for the public. Despite all previous assumptions, they were perfect for each other. One could even say they were soulmates._

_But like anything pure and lovely, their relationship fell apart and nothing was ever the same. How could it be? They were now and forevermore true enemies— at least until a threat more dire and pressing than their shattered love came along._

* * *

There were few things Ronan hated more than field trip visits. They were more like park meet and greets with a bunch of toddlers to elementary school kids, but either way it was kind of awful.

He was often told that he was good with children, great even, but he had a feeling people only told him that because he was the Greywaren. As Ronan, he was barely spared a glance or smile, but the moment he stepped into his alter ego he basically became Gansey— charming, lovely, popular. It always made Ronan feel like some tourist attraction. Or a germ-coated shopping mall penny-per-ride pony. Or Rudolf the Red-Nosed Reindeer. He fucking despised it.

Still, he forced down the disgust and bent down to be at eye level with the herd of nine year olds before him, smiling in what he thought to be the friendliest way he could manage. He hoped he looked open and kind, heroic like the man everyone thought the Greywaren _should_ be.

Ronan must’ve been doing something right, because the kid returned the smile with a wide, toothy grin of her own. She began telling him a story about her and her brother drawing him in their art class then thrust forward a folded piece of loose leaf paper.

“Wow,” Ronan said as he unfolded it. He stared at the blue-clad stick figure in awe, at the words “Greywaren to the rescue!!!” scribbled at the bottom, before glancing back up at the girl with what he hoped conveyed his genuine fondness and appreciation. “Thank you so much, this is stunning. I’ll keep it with me everywhere I go.”

The girl’s cheeks tinged pink and she nodded shyly. They took a photo, waved goodbye, and the girl went to join the rest of her classmates. Ronan stood up and carefully folded the drawing again and slipped it into his pockets. He didn’t think he was the greatest with children, but he had to admit that had gone pretty well. If only that luck would keep going through the next two hours as he got through the rest of the line of these kids.

“I’m actually kind of impressed you handled that without completely screwing up,” Declan said from Ronan’s side, smug amusement in his voice. He’d appointed himself Ronan’s manager or something the moment he’d inherited the superhero title, and despite having to admit Declan did the job well, Ronan couldn’t fucking stand being around him all the time.

Ronan turned to him, rolling his eyes. “Fuck off,” he said, low enough not to be overheard. “It’s not like I usually go around punching every kid that I see, so don’t act so surprised.”

“Ah, language Mr. Greywaren,” Declan scolded mockingly, waving a finger. “You’ll set a bad example for the city.”

“And yet, I’m the one standing here as the example for the city,” Ronan quipped, turning back to the kids with his grin back in place. “Alright, who’s next?” he asked loudly, smile widening a bit more at the cheers he got in response.

Kid field trips might’ve been one of the shittier superhero duties for Ronan, but he had to admit there were still a few perks to it.

By the time the last child was walking up to him, the past two hours had blurred together a bit. He was ready to go home and take a nap, to recharge after so much social interaction and time spent in his superhero persona. He was so drained that he didn’t even notice the vines until the screaming began.

Ronan’s head snapped up right as a woman was lifted by a vine and tied to a lamppost, her baby stroller left unattended a few feet away. For a moment, Ronan didn’t move. Vines. He didn’t want to believe it, there was no way he was back. It had been two years since he’d left— and yet Ronan would recognize those vines anywhere. He swore under his breath.

Superheroes always needed a supervillain to balance them out. Someone had to cause trouble in order to let the hero keep everyone safe. Years ago, in the beginning, that supervillain had been the Apothecary. He and the Greywaren were well-matched, always able to stir up a good battle that everyone would fawn over with minimal permanent damage. They reminded the citizens of the ever present thread of justice, that touched every single person even in their own every-day lives. They kept the city’s hope alive.

That lasted for nearly three years, from the start of Ronan’s superhero career at sixteen up until Apothecary left Henrietta. No one who knew the two ever said it aloud, but at least half the reason was because of Ronan. And yet, he was back now, stirring shit up again like he’d never left and let a lesser villain take his place.

Ronan shook himself out of his shock and glanced briefly at Declan, who nodded in reply. Their communication had become eerily good since starting to work together on the Greywaren Project.

As Declan called the kids’ attention to himself, speaking loud enough to distract most from the chaos behind them, Ronan wasted no time sprinting from his perch on the gazebo stairs and towards the vines.

It didn’t take long to track down Apothecary. Ronan broke through most of the vines with a knife Blue’s stepdad had gifted him last Christmas, summoning cataclysmic energy to destroy the rare, thick stock ones. Having fought Apothecary with less energy and magic before, Ronan didn’t struggle with the task, the vines let go almost before he cut into them every time. It was as if they were letting him do it, letting him walk by and free people.

Ronan got an uneasy feeling in his gut as he turned a corner. He spotted Apothecary almost immediately, inside his weaved sphere of vines and leaves, eyes glowing gold as he shot out his vines into the street. From the look of concentration on his face, Ronan assumed he was scrying for more people to attack as well.

Good, it meant he was distracted.

Summoning more energy to his fingertips, Ronan strode forward, hurling a ball of energy at the plant sphere. Apothecary’s eyes met Ronan’s from under the shadow cast by his deep reddish-brown cloak hood. “Good, I got your attention,” he said, a small smile quirking on his lips. “Long time no see, _Greywaren_.”

It was unnerving how different the Apothecary was from his mundane self, especially given how well Ronan had come to know the man behind it. Not that Ronan could say much about that, given his own drastic shifts as Greywaren. He shook the thought from his head, instead sneering at Apothecary as he shot another blast at the receding sphere.

“I’m shocked you came back at all, Apothecary,” he shot back. Ronan narrowly missed getting his ankle ensnared by a newly-sprouting vine but sliced the end at the last moment, taking a step back.

Apothecary shrugged, shooting another vine in Ronan’s direction, this time with a dark rose blooming at the end. “Oh Greywaren, but of course I would. Anything for you.”

Ronan gritted his teeth hard, swatting the flower away. “Bullshit.”

The petals dispersed on the ground in front of him, making the Apothecary frown, a small crack in his carefully-placed supervillain mask. Ronan hated that he could read him so well, wished, not for the first time, that he’d never known Apothecary at all. Or rather, the beautiful man behind it. In another life, Ronan thought their roles should’ve been swapped; Apothecary would’ve been a better hero.

After all, it was impossible not to love Adam Parish. Ronan knew that from first hand experience.

* * *

The first time they’d met, Ronan was still only Ronan, and Adam was only Adam. Niall Lynch had just died a few months prior and Ronan was in too much grief to take on the Greywaren’s title just yet.

It was two minutes before second period Latin, and Ronan was in the back corner teetering precariously in his chair while Gansey told his latest story about an ancient Welsh king. Ronan was only half-listening, not quite as invested in the legends of Glendower as his best friend, but he still nodded and grunted at the appropriate times to humor Gansey. Contrary to the belief of literally all their classmates, Ronan wasn’t _that_ much of an asshole. Not to Gansey or Matthew, anyway.

Then, the door to the classroom swung open and a boy stepped inside. As class was about to begin, this was a pretty normal occurrence and Ronan didn’t look up at first, continuing to rip up the index card in his hand. But Gansey halted his description of Glendower’s hidden tomb mid-sentence. When Ronan glanced at him, he was focused on the door— on the person who had just walked in. The look in Gansey’s eyes reminded Ronan of how he lit up when talking about ancient kings and magic and European wars, something Ronan had never seen him focus on a real, living human before.

Ronan followed his gaze and immediately understood why Gansey was enamored. The boy had dark blond hair and a sharp, smooth face that looked almost carved from marble. His hands were elegant and graceful as they fixed his already impeccably straight and neat Aglionby uniform. Ronan stared, he couldn’t stop himself.

Gansey waved at him, smiling as he caught the boy’s eye. “Adam!” he called out, waving for him to join them. The boy looked at Gansey for a moment and then fixed his gaze on Ronan. His blue gaze was sharp and intense, unyielding even as Ronan stared flatly back at him with a single eyebrow raised. This lasted for a moment or an hour, then Adam shrugged, eyes darting around the room as he made his way towards the other two boys.

Gansey elbowed Ronan, who was still watching Adam like a crow. “Hey, be nice.” Adam reached where they were sitting and tossed his faded satchel on the desk in front of Ronan’s. Gansey beamed at him and gestured between him and Ronan. “Ronan, this is my new friend Adam Parrish. My car broke down this morning and he helped me fix it.”

Ronan snorted. “Shocker,” he told Gansey. “How lovely.” He didn’t spare a proper greeting for Adam. Instead he continued to stare, baffled. Who the hell was this new guy who had caught Gansey’s attention so thoroughly, with his fiery stare that entirely contradicted his pole-thin body which his uniform slid off of at the shoulders.

Adam held the look. “Hello to you too,” he said, cocking an eyebrow.

Somewhere next to Ronan, Gansey let out a sigh. Ronan was very familiar with it, it was his _done with Ronan’s shit_ sigh, as if he were an exhausted, overworked and martyring mother of ten. Neither Ronan nor Adam paid attention to it.

They continued their stare-off until the teacher smacked a yardstick against his desk, starting class. Disappointingly, Adam turned around and began pulling out his supplies, raptly listening to the directions being spat out by Whelk.

Ronan, despite enjoying Latin class, did not like Whelk in the slightest. He rolled his eyes and fixed his gaze on the back of Parrish’s head instead, barely listening to Whelk drone on about the day’s itinerary.

There was something different about the boy, something familiar about his energy.

 _Are you like me?_ Ronan wondered silently. Supers were not incredibly rare, but they were not common either. Most people who were one had very minor and limited powers and would never join the official Super League as a guardian of the city, but something told Ronan this wasn’t the case with Adam Parrish.

Only three months later, when the Greywaren and Apothecary first met in combat, Ronan would discover he was absolutely correct. For now though, Adam was simply the smart, beautiful, and enigmatic new boy— one who Ronan, beneath layers of scowls and unhappy glares, secretly hoped would stick around, if only so Ronan could figure him out.

* * *

When Apothecary shot out another vine towards Ronan’s ankle, Ronan jumped back quickly. It seemed they were back to the fighting. That was fine with Ronan, he was much better at that part. He furrowed his brows and reached through to the cataclysmic realm, pulling out another burst of energy and a spear.

The tip of the spear sliced through the vine and Ronan leapt back. “Gotta be more sneaky than that.”

Apothecary smirked. “Oh, don’t worry. I know.”

A moment later, two thick vines fastened around Ronan’s wrists and began lifting him up, pulling him towards Apothecary. Figures, of course it had just been a distraction. That was always Apothecary’s method, Ronan was an idiot for forgetting that.

Ronan didn’t resist as the vines pulled him up to Apothecary’s height, knowing it would be pointless to struggle. He met Apothecary’s eyes and scowled. “What the fuck do you want?”

“Is that any way to talk to me, Greywaren?” Apothecary replied to the harsh tone, the vines tightening. “If I recall, you loved me, once.”

Ronan ground his teeth as he glared at Apothecary. “And ever since then I’ve fucking regretted it,” he lied, chest aching. Someone should’ve told him before that it was moronic to be in love with your archnemesis. Perhaps then this fight wouldn’t be exhausting him so goddamn much.

The vines loosened for a fraction of a second before tightening again, this time stinging Ronan’s wrists. Apothecary’s eyes narrowed and carefully put back the solemn mask of a supervillain, but it was too late. Even two years later, Ronan knew him too well and saw through it. His comment had stung. _Good_ , Ronan thought, pushing down the twinge of guilt.

“What do you want?” he asked.

Apothecary snorted. “Many things. Right now though, for you to shut up and listen a minute.”

Ronan blinked. That was… not what he expected to hear. Still, he nodded slowly. “You get a minute, plant boy.”

“You fucking— whatever, that’s enough. Henrietta is in danger, for real this time. I’m only here right now to warn you, if word gets out Apothecary is back here for good… it wouldn’t be good.”

“Then why’d you put on the fucking outfit and decide to cause a big scene?” Ronan retorted.

Apothecary glared. “Because it’s the only way I’d be able to get you to talk to you, asshole.”

Alright, that was fair enough. If Adam had showed up at Ronan’s apartment, he’d just slam the door in his face. “Anyway, that’s not the point. You’re all in danger. The supers especially. Heroes, villains, those who are neither, all of them. I don’t know if he followed you, but there’s not enough time and we have to stop him before the same thing happens here that happened in DC.”

Ronan froze. Supers had been going missing in DC lately, supposedly kidnapped. It was supposed to be a random coincidence; that’s what the League had said whenever someone brought it up. They were going to find them and everything would be fine. Except that was a load of bullshit. Ronan was not a faithful, blind follower of the League, never had been. He wasn’t naïve enough not to notice that something was off. That there was something— a _big_ something— they weren’t telling anyone.

“This ‘him’ who must not be named or whatever, Voldemort guy, he’s gonna come here and kidnap everyone too?” Ronan asked, brows raising in feigned skepticism. He believed it though. Apothecary— Adam— did not lie. Not to Ronan, not when it was something so serious.

“Yes,” Apothecary sighed. “He’s already come after a few other cities too, but it’s always brushed off as a coincidence. But I’ve seen it with my own fucking eyes. Neither branch of the League will listen so I’ve been trying to figure it out myself. Technically, I’m still listed as missing.”

Ronan almost laughed in disbelief. “You went rogue? You, Mr. Loyal Rule Follower.”

Apothecary shrugged. “I had no other choice. If I didn’t, everyone else would be pulled out too. I don’t know what exactly he’s doing with all the supers but it isn’t good. So will you help me with this or not?” When Ronan didn’t reply immediately, he continued quietly, “I don’t think I can do this without you, Ronan.”

Ronan let out a breath. He tried lifting his arm, wanting to indulge in the comfort brought by the leather bracelets around his wrist, but then remembered that he was still trapped in vines. Right. _Get your shit together_ , he scolded himself. “How do I know you’re not trying to manipulate me into doing something to help the villain division do something shitty that’ll fuck over everyone in the city?”

“You can’t,” Apothecary said, shoulders slumping a bit. He sounded tired. He met Ronan’s eyes from beneath his hood. “You’ll have to just trust me. You don’t have to say yes or no right away, just think about it, okay? Henrietta wasn’t kind to me, but I don’t want it to have the same ending. It… it was my home once.” _You were my home once._

In an attempt to bury how fucking vulnerable he was feeling, Ronan shrugged. “Whatever. So are we going to fucking finish this or what?”

Apothecary’s signature sneer returned. “So attentive to your job. Do not think I am finished with this, though.”

“Whatever. For now is good enough.”

Ronan pulled a burst of energy from the cataclysmic realm and seared the vines around his wrists until they were brittle and brown. The drop was five feet but Ronan was prepared, landing with minimal pain shooting through his legs. He grabbed the spear he’d dropped and began slicing through the various vines and sharp plants barricading him from Apothecary until finally he reached the sphere he was perched in.

When he saw Ronan, he smiled. “I’d love to be shot with that again, but I’m afraid I have somewhere to be now. Catch you later, Greywaren. I’m sure it’ll be sooner than you think.”

With that, a vine flung Ronan back several feet. Unable to move, he stared as the vines that had reached out into the streets around them came racing towards the sphere like a windup toy string. Eventually the sphere thickened until Apothecary was no longer visible, and in a blur, it carried him away.

Ronan staggered to his feet a few moments later. He sighed heavily, suddenly exhausted and sore everywhere. He wanted to go back home and take a nap, but there was post-villain battle damage control to do. Being a superhero was a real pain in the ass sometimes.

He brushed off his suit and began his walk back to the bewildered civilians. As he put his hero grin on his face, Ronan tried to push the conversation with Apothecary out of his mind, but it was impossible.

When he finally did get home, after some first aid, reassurance, and a lecture from Declan, Ronan—unsurprisingly— couldn’t settle down enough to sleep. Every time he tried, Adam’s voice echoed in his mind again.

“ _I don’t think I can do this without you, Ronan,”_ it whispered, again and again and again.

Ronan sighed. He had to meet up with Gansey and Blue for undisclosed reasons in a few hours, but after what had just happened, Ronan had a dread-filled suspicion of what it might be about. It was going to be a long fucking day.

* * *

The Greywaren was back, a new person beneath the old mask nearly a year after the old Greywaren’s death. It had taken some time for Ronan to believe he was ready, as well as some motivational speech bullshit from Gansey and Matthew (and, of course, some obnoxious frowning from Declan, but what else was new), but he was here now.

He’d gone to the Super League yesterday to officially register as the new Greywaren.

“We expect great things from you, Greywaren,” the League representative had told him ominously. Her mask was the same full-face piece of carefully crafted black and red plaster donned by all representatives. The League said it was so people couldn’t tell their identity, what priority hero or villain they’d been before retirement, but Ronan was pretty sure it was so they could act even more condescending than necessary. “You have not undergone any formal training from the League and therefore may not be as prepared as some of our other members, but you are still expected to abide by our guidelines and succeed. After all, you are your father’s son, are you not?”

Ronan bit his tongue hard, forcing his anger down. Well _I’m not him, my father is fucking dead,_ he wanted to shout at her. He wanted to get out of this stuffy basement office, with its Walmart-bright fluorescents and stupid representatives always hovering in wait to catch him make a mistake.

In all honesty, the entire place unsettled him. Another representative had come and collected him in a black SUV that morning and had driven them to a Hilton hotel in the middle of the suburbs. They’d been eerily silent as they led him inside and into the elevator, punching in a complicated code with the buttons that led to some secret lower basement of the hotel. This was one of the League’s main locations, they’d explained.

Ronan had scoffed. The ceiling of this supposed headquarters was made of thick pipes, the floor dirty concrete. There was nothing on the walls and the doors were all made of heavy steel. If this was only one of their second-tier locations, was the primary headquarters a fucking dumpster? He’d been sat down in the supposed lobby area— a cluster of fold up tables in the far corner near the bathrooms— and told to wait until his appointment with the location’s chief representative. It’d been fifteen of some of the most uncomfortable minutes of his goddamn life.

In his opinion, the whole entire setup of the Super League was weird as hell. There were three titles in the league: director, which was only one person per major city or area, representative, which were all those who worked in the League behind the scenes like the terrifying woman Ronan was talking to now, and heroes, the members who went out to fight crime or each other on the streets.

It didn’t matter if you were playing as the villain, in the League they still considered you a hero. Ronan’s father once told him it was a way to boost esteem and make those in the villain branch feel more welcome, since out of the media there was hardly even a difference between the two. The sorting into heroes and villains wasn’t even purposeful, when you met with a representative, they’d tell you where there was an opening and that was that.

The representative glared down at him now, despite coming only to Ronan’s shoulders, an air of superiority surrounding her. Ronan, naturally, hated it, so he’d just rolled his eyes and left the room. He’d gotten what he’d come for. There was no reason to stick around for the rest of the League’s bullshit.

Now, he stood in front of the bathroom mirror in his Greywaren uniform, about to make his hero debut to Henrietta. Almost every piece of his father’s uniform was still in a box far back in the closet, too worn out and out of fashion to be used anymore, but with Ronan’s new suit and arm guards, he still wore his father’s mask. He couldn’t bring himself to let Declan purge every single piece of evidence of Niall Lynch’s time as the Greywaren, and the mask was where they compromised.

It was stupid that he had to make a public debut on the League’s terms, but Ronan didn’t see any other way. The League would orchestrate a battle between Greywaren and one of the new villains and introduce both of them to the public. Ronan didn’t know who the new villain would be since the League had barely told him jack shit about anything, but they had told him it would be someone close to his age since it would add to the drama and rivalry or whatever the fuck.

Ronan sighed, pulling up the hood of his cowl so it covered his buzzed head. He’d find out in a few minutes, he supposed. The League gave him a time and place for his debut, and Ronan suspected they wouldn’t be very amused if he pulled his signature tardiness with this. With a final glance in the mirror, Ronan sighed heavily. He looked like his father did in the photos sitting in one of Aurora’s heavy scrapbooks. _But I’m not him_ , Ronan reminded himself. It was half reassurance, half bitterness. Averting his gaze, he exited the bathroom and made his way to the living room.

Declan and Matthew were already sitting there watching TV. They looked up when Ronan approached, and a rare look came over Declan’s face. He nodded and looked away but it was too late to mask the sadness from Ronan.

Matthew’s expression was more open than his older brother’s, his light eyes reminiscent. “You look like dad,” he told Ronan, taking in the costume.

“Thanks, Matty,” Ronan said. He came up to the couch and ruffled Matthew’s hair, trying to cover his own strong emotions. Clearing his throat and shoving it down, he continued, “I should go now so the League doesn’t get on my ass for being two minutes late or whatever the fuck.”

It was only his brothers, but Ronan found his walls had been coming up even around them and Gansey since Niall’s death. He was not the same person anymore; he’d forced tighter, sharper vines and thorns around the pathetically bright but wilting flower that was his heart until it was no longer visible through the gaps.

“Be safe, Greywaren!” Matthew called after him. Ronan tensed on his way to the back door. He still expected his father to reply to that name, never imagined it’d have to be him so fucking soon. But the Greywaren would be him now, it would be until he retired or died— most likely the latter, despite the League’s encouragement to their supers to _not_ try to kill each other. Ronan squared his shoulders and stepped outside, beginning the quiet commute to his assigned location.

The League representative had reassured him every mission would not be guided as this one and that soon they would only give a warning once his rival initiated a fight, but Ronan felt like he was being set up for a fucking playdate all the same.

When he got to Protea Street, an offshoot of one of the main roads, Ronan spotted his new supposed rival immediately. After all, they were the only other person present and wearing a uniform and mask similar to Ronan’s own, definitely not casual civilian wear. The hood over their face was a dark earth green, along with the rest of the uniform.

As Ronan approached, the new villain looked up, arms crossed. “Greywaren, I presume,” a low male voice greeted him. When Ronan said nothing he continued, “I’m the Apothecary.”

Ronan cocked an eyebrow despite the hood covering the upper half of his face. “So you brew potions from daffodils and spices. A supervillain quality indeed, plant boy.”

“Bold words for someone who had to stick with being a legacy hero instead of your own,” retorted Apothecary.

Ronan’s skin prickled, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to punch Apothecary or walk away and get a fucking beer. His fists clenched. “Whatever. Let’s just get this fucking fight over with already.”

Apothecary shrugged. “If you say so. Though I’ve got to ask. Are superheroes supposed to swear that much?” As he spoke, Apothecary shot a vine out towards Ronan’s ankles, quick and sharp like eels ready to attack.

Ronan pulled a blade from the cataclysmic realm and sliced through the vines, leaping back. “I don’t know and I don’t really care.”

Apothecary grinned sharply. He formed a prickly ball of roots resembling a tumbleweed and aimed. “Fair enough.”

They circled each other for a moment before Apothecary launched the ball. As it neared Ronan, the vines slithered out like octopus tentacles, reaching for his arms, his legs, his neck. Ronan swore aggressively as he tried dodging and cutting through the vines, which kept coming from the small sphere. It was baffling— and concerning, since they were all attacking Ronan— how many goddamn branches had been packed into it.

As he sliced through the vines, Ronan tried to pull out another burst of energy. Since he was only half focused, it built up incredibly slowly, leaving Ronan on the defense for longer than he’d like. Tilting his right hand out of view, Ronan tore through the vines and pushed closer and closer as the energy built up into his own power sphere.

The moment it was big enough to break through whatever the hell Apothecary had built to auto-attack Ronan, he lunged forward and shoved a hand towards the center of the plant, forcing all the energy into it. With a loud sizzling sound, the plant began to brown and char, its strong vines becoming nothing more than burnt ash in a moment.

Apothecary appeared surprised, but then he looked at Ronan. His smile softened from the sharp, mischievous supervillain grin that cut across his face like a razor. It was almost soft around the edges, impressed or proud. Ronan looked away before he read into it too much. He stepped back and crossed his arms.

“Well met,” Apothecary said, doing the same. “Our paths split here but I definitely think we’ll be fighting each other again soon.” His eyes shot briefly to the various cameras and microphones aimed their way, all hiding from a safe distance despite the fact the two of them hadn’t done much to throw around debris like some of the other heroes sometimes did.

“Yeah, probably,” Ronan said. “Well, see you later, I guess. Loser.”

Apothecary laughed, a surprisingly warm sound, as he began to wrap new vines around himself. Before his face was covered he echoed, “See you later.”

And with that, Ronan, for the first time of many to come, watched Apothecary’s dramatic exit and was left alone in the media pool. As he tried to answer reporters’ badgering as politely as he could, Ronan realized at last that this was _real_. He was the Greywaren now. The protector of Henrietta, a superhero. When a camera flash went off from somewhere to Ronan’s left, his half smile came out more like a grimace.

* * *

Ronan really should have seen this coming. Looking back, he was a goddamn idiot for thinking that this meetup with Gansey and Blue would be about a non-Adam Parrish related matter, especially after running into him earlier.

He stepped into Nino’s only about five minutes late rather than ten. The moment his eyes landed on the group’s usual table and found an all too familiar head of dusty blond hair, Ronan immediately turned around. He almost made it back out the door, but thanks to the fucking bell above it, his friends had taken notice.

“Ronan!” Gansey called from behind him.

Ronan let out a long breath. Well fuck, might as well face it. Slowly, he turned around again. The waitress standing near the door gave him an amused glance. Ronan glared back, hard, but she didn’t seem bothered, instead going back to sorting menus.

As he made his way over to the table, Ronan kept his eyes focused on the neon sign on the wall behind the group. It was all he could do to keep himself staring at Adam. It was ridiculous, given that he’d technically seen the man only a few goddamn hours before, but there was a difference between seeing Apothecary and just _Adam_.

“Dick. Maggot,” Ronan said stiffly as he sat. The chair squeaked loudly against the linoleum floors as he scooted in, deafening in the awkward silence. He felt Adam staring at him, but Ronan refused to look.

After everything, the past morning and the past few years, how the fuck was he supposed to? If Ronan saw Adam, beautiful now-grown Adam, he was either going to storm out again or burst into pathetic tears. Neither was ideal. He wasn’t entirely sure how Adam had been dealing with all of… well, everything, but Ronan didn’t’ want to look like the one who was taking it the absolute shittiest. Adam didn’t deserve to know how _awful_ things had been for after he left, how much he still affected Ronan just by sitting there.

“I apologize for springing this on you,” Gansey said after a long moment. “We thought it’d be a nice surprise. I mean, it’s been a long time since we’ve all been together and you two got to talk. We were simply trying to help.”

Adam snorted. “That’s one way to put it.”

Gansey’s face fell. Ronan sighed. Having to be the supportive best friend even when you were pissed off fucking sucked. “Thanks for your effort Gansey, but next time maybe don’t. It’s all completely fucking dandy and we don’t have to make up or whatever.”

From the corner of Ronan’s eye, Adam nodded. He had his business persona on. Since when had he used it in front of his fucking _friends_ , people he’d once been so comfortable and open around? Ronan detested this version of Adam, from the posture to the politely detached tone of his voice. It was disgustingly smooth, drenching every single word as he said, “Exactly. We’re mature adults, it’s been two years and we can handle ourselves without needing a facilitator. Right Ronan?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely,” Ronan replied. To illustrate his point, he stuck his tongue out at Adam, flipping him off when Adam rolled his eyes. It felt like they were just going through the motions, an unenthusiastically recited script neither of them truly believed.

Blue snorted, a brow raised as she looked between the two. Clearly, she didn’t buy the act either. She shoved a mozzarella stick into her mouth. “Keep telling yourselves that.”

A retort was on the tip of Ronan’s tongue, but one of the monitors hanging over the table across the room made him pause. The local news station had been playing the entire time, but Ronan hadn’t had a reason to pay attention before when the stories were about the weather and puppy dogs visiting the hospital. Now though, the anchor looked rather grim next to a graphic reading ‘MINOR SUPERHERO GOES MISSING’ and Ronan was reminded unpleasantly of his earlier conversation with Adam.

“Hey,” he said to a passing waiter, “can you turn the volume on the TV up for a minute?”

The waiter frowned, but some of Ronan’s concern must’ve been seeping through because the teenager shut his mouth and nodded. “Yeah, of course.”

“Breaking news in the world of supers today,” the anchor was saying. “Marcia Finley, an accountant and minor super with water elemental abilities, has been reported missing to the Henrietta PD today. Better known as the minor superhero _Ice Cube_ , the twenty two year old is said to have missed work this morning without notice. Her friends and family could not find her and eventually reported to the Super League, who filed a missing persons report. If you know any information about where Marcia might be, please call the police or the whistleblower hotline to help ensure her safety. And now for nightly sports with Jim.”

Ronan nodded to the waiter as Jim began to analyze the recent basketball game and the TV went back on mute. His head felt dizzy. This couldn’t be a coincidence, it was too close to Adam’s warning. Perhaps he had a point after all.

As he turned back to the table, Ronan’s eyes involuntarily slid over to Adam. He’d been watching the story as well, and there was a pinch between his brows— his Sherlock look as Ronan used to call it.

Their eyes met. Adam looked grim, looking at the TV again and then back at Ronan. _What’s it going to be?_ his raised eyebrow asked.

Ronan sighed heavily, pushing his chair back. He stood, grabbing his jacket and sliding it back on. “Well, this has been fun, but I just remembered something. Later.”

“What? But the pizza just came,” Gansey said with a frown, gesturing to the waitress now awkwardly standing by the table with two large pizzas balanced on her arms.

“You guys can finish it,” Ronan shrugged. He gave Gansey a look and watched the realization spread over his face.

Gansey nodded. “Oh, yeah alright. See you later, man.”

Adam stood up as well. “I have something to take care of as well while I’m here. I’m sorry I couldn’t have stayed longer,” he said, fidgeting with the scraps of a napkin he’d been ripping up. “We’ll catch up better tomorrow, yeah?”

This time, Blue was the one to nod. “Bye, Adam.” When Gansey began to protest, she elbowed him in the side lightly. “There’ll be plenty more time, he’s not leaving for a few more weeks .”

“I suppose you’re right, Jane,” Gansey said. “Goodnight Ronan, Adam.”

Ronan and Adam left the restaurant silently, Adam following after Ronan to his car. “Still got this thing, huh?” he said, nostalgia tinting his voice. Ronan merely grunted and unlocked the BMW. Adam went around the other side and climbed into the passenger’s seat.

There was a beat of silence before Ronan said, “Fine. I guess you’ve got a point about this. I’ll think about it.”

In the dim light, Adam’s grin was still somehow illuminated, bright as a stadium light and smug as the fucking politician he’d left to become. “I figured you would come around.”

“I said I’d think about it, not that I’d work with you,” Ronan argued. “I’m not entirely sold yet.”

“You will be,” Adam said. “When you decide you want to do something about it too, you know where to find me.” He nodded, all professionalism, and opened the car door again. Before shutting it, he added, “It was nice to see you again.”

Ronan watched him disappear into the dark parking lot. He pressed his forehead into the steering wheel and let out a long breath. Adam was right, he knew deep down. But there was still a part of Ronan that was hesitant to dive into this mystery, and not just because it’d require working with Adam.

Even after so many years, after therapy and reconnecting with his brothers and his friends, there was still a small, tight and perhaps permanent ball of doubt settled in Ronan’s chest.

Ronan Lynch was not a superhero, not in the way his father had been, in the way Blue was or even the way Adam was, despite his affiliation with the villain branch of the League. He wanted to help people, wanted to solve this case and stop this before more people like Marcia were taken, but what if he was biting off more than he could chew?

“Ugh,” Ronan muttered to himself, scowling. He shoved his key into the ignition, shifted gears, and sped out of the parking lot at full speed. This would be a problem for Ronan of the future to freak out about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> art in this chapter is by [Vy](https://ladvy.tumblr.com/) and [Cami](https://gouachemole.tumblr.com/)! check out more of their incredible art by clicking the following links :D


	2. Chapter 2

“Looking Glass, do you copy?”

“Yep.”

“Do you have the means to contact Greywaren? There seems to be a villain out and about that the Villains branch didn’t mention fucking around out here and you two are the only ones out right now,” Robobee said through her communicator. “I don’t know which, but it’s a lower ranked one. Probably pretty mild, but still. Some warning would be great.”

She snorted. “Yeah, he’s right here, actually. We’ll take care of them.”

“Fantastic, Robobee out.”

There was a click as the channel disconnected and Ronan snorted. “Imagine choosing such a ridiculous code name.”

“Says you, _Greywaren_ ,” Looking Glass, or as Ronan still liked to remind her when no one else was around, Blue, said. “What does that even mean?”

“Hell if I know. It was my dad’s idea, I think,” Ronan said. “You gonna get a Ouija board and ask him?”

Blue’s nose scrunched up and she kicked at Ronan. “I’m not the psychic, we’ve been over this,” she said pointedly. “Whatever, let’s just find this villain. It should take like five minutes top, Robobee’s signal says they’re only three blocks away.”

They both stood from the ledge, climbing down the fire escape ladder on the side of the building. Sure, it wasn’t exciting as, say, grappling hook jumps or Ronan burning some of his energy to create a portal over to the villain, but it was fucking convenient.

Blue led the way down the street, eyes focused on her tracker. She nearly walked into a pile of wood until Ronan veered her to the left of it and she narrowly missed. It hardly got a reaction, Ronan only rolled his eyes.

A few minutes later, they arrived at the location Robobee sent. They scanned around, but the scene was empty of anyone. In fact, there seemed to barely be any sound around here. The usual Henrietta night noises of drunkards and heroes and villains and college students was hardly audible. There was something off about it, putting Ronan immediately on edge.

“He said they should be right here. In one of the old train car manufacturing warehouses or something,” Blue muttered. “But there’s no one here.”

“Thanks a fucking lot, Robobee,” Ronan muttered, sighing. “I guess we should start looking?”

Blue nodded. “You’re right. I’ll check out the outside areas, you look inside with your fancy Batman night vision stuff?”

“I don’t have any fucking Batman gadgets. Shout if you see them,” Ronan said, “there’s something weird about this.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Blue said, but she nodded anyway. “Good luck, _Greywaren_.”

“Same to you, _Looking Glass_.”

They made a face at each other then headed their separate ways. Blue turned the corner to begin her perimeter search and Ronan strode up to the warehouse door. He yanked at the handle and it swung open slowly with a loud screech.

Well shit, there went subtlety. Perhaps Blue should’ve taken the inside. After all, her abilities were much better equipped for stealth. She had the power of illusions, so she could make herself silent or invisible. Ronan had the power of sparkly atoms that blew shit up and drew attention.

But it was too late to switch now, so he stepped inside as quietly as possible. He kept his hand ready with no energy in it and continued inside, eyes shifting around the empty room. And then, in the far left corner on the upper level, there was movement. Ronan’s eyes snapped to it immediately and he squinted in the dim light.

There were two figures perched in the corner, seemingly in the middle of a silent argument. Interesting, Ronan thought to himself. Robobee had only reported one villain and these two were far too different for one to be a doppelganger, natural or other means. The taller one grabbed their companion’s wrist, and they tried to wrench away. It was to no avail, and Ronan watched the struggle for another few moments until finally the tall person elbowed the other and forced them to the ground. A second later, the person went limp and the tall one started to drag their body.

­ _The fuck?_ Ronan thought to himself in horror, watching and unmoving as the person dragged their companion down the stairs. The metal clanged beneath their skull but the conscious one didn’t seem to mind it. They didn’t seem to notice Ronan, either.

As they dragged the body into the center of the warehouse, they passed through a shaft of light from one of the streetlamps. Immediately, Ronan recognized the victim’s uniform and went rigid. It was one of the newer recruits of the Villain branch, a teenager with minor pyrokinetic abilities. He wasn’t very powerful, from what Ronan had heard, but he was one of the most diligent and enthusiastic new members. The same type of person Adam had been when he was first recruited.

Fireball, Ronan recalled, was lying limp on the ground as a figure in all black hovered over him. If not for the slight rise and fall of his chest, Ronan would’ve thought he’d been killed by this mysterious person. They pulled something from their cloak, a communicator of some type. In a garbled voice they said, “We’ve got another one,” and picked Fireball up, slinging him carelessly over their shoulder.

Impulsively, Ronan stepped out of the shadows. There was a ball of energy in both hands and terror seizing his chest. This, this was what Adam had been warning about. It had to be. “Drop the kid,” he demanded.

The figure laughed. “I’d like to see you try to fight me, you are no match.”

Behind Ronan, there was creaking and a metal bar from the pillars unstuck itself and swung for his head. He managed to dodge it, but didn’t miss the smug look the unknown villain gave him. A telekinetic, then. A rather good one too, it seemed, if they could undo the screws and glue like nothing. Shit.

“Who the fuck are you?” Ronan snarled.

“You will know soon enough,” they said. “But I really must be going now, it’s been a lovely talk.”

Ronan frowned. “Like hell you’re going anywhere.” He lunged forward.

The warehouse began to shake and groan. Metal ripped itself from the walls, the beams, from parts, and quickly made a barricade around Ronan. He threw a ball of energy at a part of the barrier, but it only ricocheted and flew back at him. Ronan swore loudly and stepped out of the way, looking over it to glower at the telekinetic.

“Truly a valiant effort,” they said patronizingly. “Well, I’m off. This time you’ll simply get a warning, though I recommend you do not cross me again, _Greywaren_. And that goes for any of your friends as well.”

A piece of metal unexpectedly detached from the barrier and flew into Ronan’s bicep and he hissed in pain. “Fuck—you,” he gritted out.

He was ignored and the telekinetic walked off, Fireball still unconscious and over his shoulder. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Ronan banged on the barrier. It didn’t budge. He kicked at it, threw another ball of energy, tried to fucking climb up it. Nothing worked, he was trapped. His only hope now was to hope Blue was still around and would answer his pathetic comm for help.

It was humiliating, making the call, but Ronan did it anyway. He didn’t wait when she picked up. “Looking Glass. Get your ass in here now. Something bad happened.”

* * *

Ronan would admit that it was _kind of_ his fault that he and Adam didn’t get along very well at first. However, in his defense, Adam didn’t try very hard either. Ronan would say something barbed and brash, but then Adam would return it easily with his own sharp words.

It was obvious how much Gansey hated it. After all, he was quickly integrating Adam into their group. Everywhere they went Adam was invited: Nino’s, the corner of the Aglionby courtyard where they ate lunch, even when they went to Gansey’s apartment to play video games. Adam was not just another temporary interest, an acquaintance— Gansey genuinely liked him, wanted him to hang around him long term. Ronan wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

And so, like everything he didn’t know how to act towards, he simply scowled until Adam went away. He had to at some point, right?

Adam did not go away.

A week went by, and then another, and then it’d been three months, and by now even Ronan had subconsciously begun to accept Adam as just another part of their group.

Today, the two of them were alone. They were on opposite ends of the leather couch in Gansey’s apartment, sitting in an awkward silence. Gansey had invited them over to hang out after school, so like the dutiful friends they were, both Ronan and Adam showed up at three o’clock, only to find that Gansey was nowhere in sight.

“Lynch,” Adam had nodded as he walked up to Gansey’s door, voice stilted in false pleasantry.

“Parrish,” Ronan replied.

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” Adam said. “Thought you’d be off doing whatever it is you do when you’re not at school.”

“Well, I’m fucking full of surprises.”

They stood there for a solid five minutes before Ronan had finally muttered, “Fuck it,” and dug the spare key Gansey had entrusted him with out of his backpack.

And now they were here, not even looking at each other as they waited for Gansey.

Adam had pulled his homework out when they sat down— and pointedly ignored Ronan’s scoff— and was scratching away at his calculus homework. Who the fuck even voluntarily took calculus as a junior? Stupid Parrish with his stupid brilliance, that’s who.

Ronan stole one of the pens from his pencil bag and was clicking it repeatedly and let his mind wander.

He should probably create some sort of fucking brand for his superhero career. Declan would eat that shit up. _Click, click_.

Where the fuck was Gansey? _Click, click._

What if he got a pet raven? He wasn’t sure what the city regulations on keeping birds were, but if it was illegal, that’d make it more fun. Not to mention, Declan would be pissed. _Click, click_. He could name the raven something stupid. Like Chainsaw or some shit. _Click, click_. Yes, Chainsaw. Fucking brilliant. _Click, click._

Ronan yawned and he thought back to the night before. It seemed that the League expected him to be fucking nocturnal or something, doing all this superheroey shit at two in the goddamn morning and leaving absolutely no room for sleep.

As an insomniac, Ronan had laughed when the League representative had told him this. He wasn’t one to get very much sleep already, what was a bit more?

It was a lot, it turned out.

His previous routine did not include clichéd cross-city chases across rooftops, which were much more exhausting than helping Gansey make a miniature of the city. For fuck’s sake, there weren’t even any civilians around to gasp in amazement when Apothecary nearly choked him to death with a fucking grapevine.

Goddamn, Ronan was tired. He gave the pen four clicks this time just to spice shit up.

 _Snap_.

Ronan looked up, surprised. Adam had broken off the tip of his pencil and was now looking directly at Ronan, jaw clenched. “Lynch. Seriously?”

“What?” Ronan asked innocuously. _Click, click._

“Stop clicking that damn pen,” Adam practically snarled. He closed his eyes, breathed in heavily and then exhaled. After a long moment, he opened his eyes again, the anger completely wiped away as he met Ronan’s eyes. “I’m sorry, I had a bad night.”

 _You and me both, Parrish_ , Ronan thought tiredly. It was a bit unnerving how quickly Adam’s emotions had switched around like that though. It was a full one-eighty.

 _It’d make it easy for him to be a good superhero_ , Ronan, who could not keep his shit together no matter which identity he was parading around in, thought. Instead of voicing this, he raised an eyebrow. “The fuck did you do?”

Adam’s shoulders tensed, somehow even stiffer before. If Ronan hadn’t already been staring at him— the guy was irritating, but he was also _cute_ , okay— he probably wouldn’t have noticed. “None of your business,” Adam said. “I’ve got a bunch of jobs.”

The way he said it was a bit suspicious and Ronan quirked an eyebrow, but he doubted it was anything. Jumping to any sort of conclusion would be stupid, Parrish was probably just tired because he took a closing shift or something. “Whatever.” And then, since it seemed like Gansey was not about to spontaneously walk in and profusely apologize for his tardiness or some shit, Ronan continued awkwardly, “So uh, what do you do then? At these fuck-ton of jobs, I mean.”

Adam had pulled out a small sharpener to salvage the broken pencil but looked at Ronan again at the question. “Are you trying to make small talk?” he asked, amused. Still, he put down his pencil and leaned back against the couch. “Right now, I’m a mechanic down the street, a waiter at Nino’s, and package at a factory before school sometimes,” he said, counting each off on his fingers.

“What the actual fuck,” Ronan wondered aloud. “And you do all that homework on top of it? Do you even fucking sleep?”

“Rent needs to get paid somehow.” Adam shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal, and it occurred to Ronan that for him maybe it _wasn’t_. Every time Ronan talked to him, the enigma that was Adam Parrish became larger, more complex and tangled than he’d initially realized.

Ronan shook his head, laughing a bit. “Jesus Christ.”

A small smile formed on Adam’s lips as well. “I’d ask what you do, but you’re a Raven boy so I think I already know the answer to that.”

“Oh?” Ronan asked. “And what’s that?”

Without a moment of hesitation Adam said, “Sit on your ass supported by your daddy’s money.”

A laugh escaped Ronan’s mouth. He couldn’t even bring himself to be mad at that. It was incredibly rare, especially when Gansey or anyone else was around, but Ronan always felt something like pride whenever Adam let his snark slip. Despite his carefully crafted façade of a studious, polite, Ivy League-bound young man, Adam was as much of an ass as Ronan was, perhaps even more. It was a side that Ronan liked far better, one he wished he could see more often. Even now, it was just the tip of the iceberg. _What else was there to learn about Adam Parrish?_

“Someone’s got to do it, since dear old dad is gone,” Ronan replied without any emotion, brows raised.

Luckily, Adam scoffed. “Way to kill a vibe, Lynch. I thought that was supposed to be my thing.”

Ronan shrugged and they fell into silence. Though the conversation had been short, something in the room had shifted as a result. They knew another piece of each other’s puzzle now, snapping into place and clearing away some of the fog of unfamiliarity. Perhaps, Ronan thought, it could be the start of something.

A new friendship, maybe.

He kept this thought to himself and, this time when he began to click the pen, Adam only smiled at him.

* * *

After an embarrassing rescue from Blue and having to relay the story of what happened to Fireball to an equally enthused and concerned Robobee at the League headquarters, Ronan was finally free to go. The smart thing to do was go home, shower, and pass the fuck out so he got at least a bit of sleep before his daytime-life demanded his presence, but Ronan had another plan.

He didn’t want any questions from Blue or to let this fester in his mind with the kidnapping for the rest of his fucking life, so, without a word, Ronan slipped out of the hotel and sped off to an all too familiar part of town. Perhaps he slammed the car door a bit too harshly for the stillness of three in the morning, but Ronan couldn’t have cared less. He stomped up the stairs and halted in front of the familiar door, only pausing for a second before slamming on the door.

“Parrish,” he called through the wood.

Moments later, a tired looking Adam cracked the door open, glowering but unsurprised to see Ronan. Without a word, he opened the door all the way and walked back inside. Ronan stepped in, shutting the door behind him, and walked into the main room.

Though this place had been untouched for two years now, it hardly looked like Adam had left. There were a few small things different, of course— fewer textbooks lying around and a new jacket thrown over the couch, not that Ronan noticed— but the space was still familiar. Ronan hated it. Adam’s apartment had no right to hold so many of the best memories Ronan had of Adam, to welcome him back like it had been his home once, a long time ago.

He sat on the couch with more force than necessary and crossed his arms. He would not let himself think about it.

A few moments later, Adam sat in the wooden rocking chair across from him, a steaming mug between his hands. (Tea, most likely, supplied the foolish part of him that had once catalogued every piece of Adam like his life depended on it. Adam only drank tea between the hours of eleven to six unless he was studying.) His hair was disheveled and eyes tired, still ridiculously handsome in the dim lamplight.

Ronan realized he must have woken up at the knock. Ronan had always been used to Adam already being awake when he spontaneously showed up at his doorstep, but perhaps that was another thing that changed.

“So I’m gonna assume you’re not just here for some chamomile tea,” Adam said, accent thick and brow quirked as he studied Ronan. His scrutiny never failed to pick Ronan apart piece by piece, but this time Ronan put up a wall.

“I’ll fucking do it,” Ronan said gruffly to his hands, unwilling to look at Adam. Had he gained any new freckles during his time at Harvard, or had they faded since he was away from the hot Virginian sun? Did he compose himself differently now, now that he’d gotten a taste of the life he deserved? “Like, actually this time.”

Adam’s face remained neutral. He nodded. “I’m glad to hear.”

Something in Ronan snapped. “That’s fucking it?” he muttered. “God, you’re impossible sometimes.”

Adam’s eyes shot up to Ronan’s, for real this time, his lips forming into a deep frown. “What else in hell am I supposed to say, Ronan? I’m not the one who’s been a fucking pain about this for no goddamn reason. This is a serious problem that needs to be worked on as soon as possible and you’re treating it like— like some sort of game. This is a legitimate threat. Do you ever take anything seriously, Lynch, because I’m starting to think that you never have.”

 _That you never took_ us _seriously_ , Adam didn’t say, but Ronan heard anyway.

The anger drained out of his body, leaving him exhausted and _aching_ , the same way he had when he’d learned that Adam up and left. “I did. I fucking do. We both know I do, you just don’t want to fucking admit it. I don’t want to fight you on this, I do fucking care about this. I saw a kid get kidnapped by this guy tonight, Adam, of fucking course I don’t want it to keep happening.

“I know I can never be as great of a super as you or— or my dad, but I’m _trying_ , okay? So let me try. I want to do what I can, I want to keep Henrietta from this just as much as you do so fuck off. If all you’re going to do is sit here judgmentally, insulting my abilities and my dedication, I’ll do it myself. Blue would help me, but at least when she’s giving me shit, it’s not an actual insult.”

With that, Ronan stood up from the couch, fingernails digging into the palms of his hands to keep them from shaking, and started towards the door. He was aiming to make a dramatic exit, maybe slam the door so Adam would not only know he fucked up but also have to deal with his neighbors coming to bitch about the noise too.

It was a mistake to come here. Not to mention, he’d said way too much. So much for trying to get Adam to think he’d gotten his shit in order over the past few years. He was still the same stupid, love and fear filled fool as he’d always been. And, after tonight, a shit hero too.

As he reached the door, one long finger hooked into one of the loops on Ronan’s leather bracelet. Ronan stared down at it, unblinking, then up at Adam. He pulled his hand away, fighting the old rush of emotion swelling in his chest, the one that told him to grab Adam’s hand and instead bring it to his lips. Ronan hadn’t realized it was even still there, and he wished to every fucking god and star in the universe it wasn’t.

“Wait,” Adam said quietly, eyes wide. The vulnerability on his face took Ronan aback.

Vulnerability meant weakness to Adam, and even after he and Ronan grew closer, he never fully let down his guard. It was one of the things Ronan hated most about Robert Parrish, how he’d ingrained such wariness into someone so radiant and deserving as Adam.

(The only time he looked completely and entirely calm, without any guard up, was when he was asleep, curled against Ronan as the first tendrils of sunlight began to trickle over the horizon. It was always the best part of Ronan’s day. Once Adam left and he woke up cold and alone each morning— without a singule trace of Adam to be seen— his chest imploding with the weight of Adam’s absence, his choice of Harvard over Ronan, it became the worst part.)

And yet here he was now, willingly open and _pleading_ as his hand remained outstretched towards Ronan. Like Ronan had been the one to leave instead. And this time, maybe he ought to be. There was nothing left for him to do here, was there?

Instead, Ronan crossed his arms and sighed. The crease between Adam’s brows shallowed a bit. He ran a hand through his sandy hair, longer on top now than he’d worn it before. “I’m— I didn’t mean to go off like that,” he breathed out. “This is not how this was supposed to go, fuck.”

There was a long, heavy pause. Adam pushed his hair back again. “I’m sorry Ronan. I know that you care just as much about this as I do and you’re trying, so fucking hard, even if I might not see it and I didn’t think it was enough.” He winced. “You always poured your entire heart into everything. There’s too much love in you to not care about something, I have no goddamn idea why I even said that. It just came out because I guess I still can’t control my anger really well. I want us to be able to hold a conversation again, to work together and figure this out, I swear. Just… after everything that happened it’s—”

“Messy,” supplied Ronan.

Adam nodded. “Yeah. Thank you for giving this a chance though. Even if you decide you don’t want to work with me after all, because of… everything, and just go off on your own, that’d be okay. The city needs you more than ever, and I think you can do something great for them. I know you can.” He gave Ronan a small, tired smile. “That’s my spiel, I guess. I’ll contact you sometime soon so we can start on everything. Have a good night.”

Ronan found himself smiling back, a small, shy thing. There was something about the hour of 3am that made everything softer around the edges, warmer and more hopeful. “You too, Parrish,” he replied.

With that, he walked back out of the building and towards his own home. Once outside, he sighed heavily. It’d been an impulse decision to come tonight, and now he was part of a conspiracy to un-kidnap a bunch of supers. There was a voice of doubt still nagging at the back of his head, one that was telling him to charge right back up there and back out, but Ronan grit his teeth and pushed it back. Maybe it was right, maybe it wasn’t.

Either way, it was too late now. He was going to be the hero Henrietta deserved. The hero his father deserved to honor his memory.

* * *

Ronan fucked up. It wasn’t necessarily a city-threatening, life-ruining type of fuck up, but it sure as fuck felt like one. Objectively, he’d known from the first time they met that Adam was attractive. Incredibly so. Ronan had eyes, he knew a good-looking guy when he saw one, but he thought it would stop there. He was a moron for thinking that.

As of late, the two had been hanging out together more and more. There were Gansey-facilitated hang outs, of course, which were becoming more frequent since he had caught on that the two no longer felt like strangling each other when in the same room, but then there were times where it was just Ronan and Adam, alone on purpose.

With that newfound proximity, some more bonding, and a fuck-ton of late night conversation, Ronan probably should’ve seen it coming, but still he felt a jolt once he’d fully realized that he liked Adam. And not just in a platonic, _we’re finally tolerating each other and enjoy each other’s company_ kind of way, but in a _every time we’re sitting next to each other I want to take his hands and kiss him_ type of way.

It was, objectively, one of the worst things that had ever happened to him. Sure, his dad was murdered when he was fifteen and he was still not entirely over that, but in the moment this was pretty damn terrifying too. His heart was about to fucking explode just sitting near Adam.

There was absolutely no way Adam would ever like Ronan like that, and this whole infatuation was masochistic. Even if Adam did like him, it could never work out. The League turned their noses up at relationships between their supers and civilians, especially those without powers— and Adam had never shown any aptitude for any sort of ability. Ronan, of course would’ve said fuck them and quit if he had to, but then Declan, ever loyal to the League, would step in. That is, if Ronan didn’t mess it up first by just being himself.

Anyway, thinking of all that shit was useless. It was unproductive. It was all based on whether Adam liked him too, which he definitely did not. And yet Ronan couldn’t help his pulse from jumping at every touch, the blush that stained his cheeks when they shared a secret smile, his foolish excitement every time Adam suggested the two of them do something together.

They were sitting on Ronan’s couch tonight, a bit closer than necessary and shouting as they raced on Mario Kart. Gansey was out courting his new girlfriend Blue, a friend and coworker of Adam’s at Nino’s. Those two getting together was part of the reason Ronan and Adam were getting so close: though the entire group sometimes did things together, sometimes the couple just wanted to go on a date alone. And that was fine by Ronan, not that he’d say so aloud.

“Motherfucker,” he exclaimed as a red turtle shell came hurtling at his car, sending Waluigi spinning and his coins scattering.

Adam cackled and Shy Guy came speeding by, taking half his coins in the process. The little numbers in the corner switched and Shy Guy took first place and crossed the finish line with an enthusiastic twrl. “Sorry,” Adam said unapologetically.

Ronan elbowed him, maneuvering Waluigi back onto the course the best he could before the 3rd place bot could pass him too. As he made it the last couple hundred feet to get across the finish line, he turned to Adam, scowling. “Fuck you, fucker. I hate you so much.”

“I know,” Adam said cheekily, turning as well with a smile.

Something in Ronan’s chest ached as their eyes met, and so badly he wanted to move closer, to drop the consoles and finally find out exactly what kissing Adam Parrish would be like. He didn’t, of course. Instead he remained there, unmoving and staring at Adam while the end of race music blared on the TV. Ronan barely heard it. Adam was so close that he could easily count the freckles scattered across the bridge of his nose, he could see the intricate details and swirling colors in the blue irises of his eyes, see the faintly visible scar above his right eyebrow. He was beautiful in the warm lighting of dusk, more suited to be sitting in the Garden of Eden than on Ronan’s ratty living room sofa, surrounded by knitted blankets and pizza crumbs.

Though Ronan did not look away, neither did Adam. He stared back, eyes wide, as if he were seeing Ronan in the same effervescent light that Ronan saw him in. It wasn’t true, of course, but Ronan could pretend it was, just for a moment.

The universe waited, watched to see what the two boys would do. Adam shifted minutely closer, his mouth opening to say something.

And then the sound of Ronan’s phone pierced through the moment and everything sped up again. They startled apart, scooting to opposite ends and not looking each other in the eye. Ronan grabbed his phone with a slightly shaky hand, turning it on. There were two texts from Declan and a missed call.

 _There’s a situation down on Jamestown Plz_ , read the first message. _Ronan, people need you._ the second one read, period and all. Ronan sighed loudly, rolling his eyes and shoving the phone back into his jacket pocket. He didn’t bother replying, let Declan wait.

“I’ve got to go,” he muttered in annoyance, glancing to Adam.

Adam raised an eyebrow. “Where’re you going?” he asked.

Ronan shrugged. He grunted vaguely. How the fuck was he supposed to explain to Adam that he had to go put on some spandex and fight some idiot downtown because, oh yeah, he was Henrietta’s biggest superhero? God, this double identity shit was ridiculous. “Sorry,” he muttered. “We can hang out after your shift at Boyd’s on Thursday, if you want.”

“You remembered my work schedule?” Adam asked, amused.

Thankfully, it meant he’d let go of where Ronan was off to in a rush. It also meant some embarrassment as Ronan stuttered out an answer, but he was already embarrassing himself today as it was.

Adam grinned. “Yeah, okay. I’ll see you then.” His phone buzzed in his hand then, and he looked down, blinking. “Oh, looks like I’ve got to go too. Work. Bye, Lynch.”

“See ya, Parrish,” Ronan nodded.

Adam gathered his shit and, with one more wave, headed out the door and to the bus station. Ronan sighed loudly as the door closed. _What almost happened before Declan called_? he wondered, then shook his head. He had to go get ready.

Still, as he pulled on his Greywaren outfit and created a portal to Jamestown Plaza, Ronan couldn’t really get into the superhero mindset. He was still distracted by bright blue eyes and what might’ve almost turned into a kiss.

(Fighting Apothecary, he could’ve sworn that the villain’s eyes looked familiar. He brushed it off as wishful thinking.)

* * *

A few days after his conversation with Adam, Ronan was sitting in the disgustingly pretentious art gallery that served as his “day job”. Declan had bought it and employed Ronan there once Ronan was out of high school, saying that he had to at least look like he worked.

It was a simple job, he just had to sit in the back corner as people came and went throughout the day, giving a brochure when asked for and stopping people from putting their grimy hands on any of the art. The low maintenance required in the gallery also made it far less suspicious if he had to slip out to do superhero bullshit, scheduled or not, throughout the day. Some of the other supers in the league had better full-time jobs, editing at an office building or something, but that required more effort than Ronan was willing to and was able to give, being the poster boy superhero and all.

Ronan spun in the office chair he sat in and crumpled a post-it note, bored. And then something strange happened.

Out of nowhere, an acorn flew through the air, colliding with Ronan’s cheek. “Ow, mother of fuck,” he exclaimed, picking up the acorn and rubbing his face.

He looked around, in the gallery and out the windows, but there was no one there. Sighing, Ronan shifted his focus to the acorn instead. It was larger than an average acorn should be, maybe three inches tall. The cap was a bright green, more saturated than the color of an unripe plant.

Instantly, Ronan knew exactly what it was. He tried to push down the ache in his chest as he remembered all the times Adam used to send him small messages inside an acorn, like he was a fucking faerie prince or something.

With a small squeeze, the cap of the acorn flew off with a small _pop_ and revealed the rolled up leaf inside. Ronan bit back a sad smile. Adam had always been dramatic when using his powers, especially when playing the part of a supervillain.

Ronan plucked the leaf out and smoothed it on the desk, eyes scanning the leaf.

The message was written in metallic Sharpie in Adam’s perfect handwriting and a pang of sadness coursed through Ronan’s already heavy heart looking at it.

**_R— First meeting’s at 3pm today in the warehouse next to Aglionby. Wear your mask._ **

**_—A_ **

Ronan’s thumb traced over the A as he read over the note another time. There were several warehouses surrounding their school, but Ronan knew exactly which one Adam was talking about. Adam knew he would. It had been a private meeting place for the two once, somewhere they could simply exist together, not as Henrietta’s darling supers, not as tentative friends from school, just Ronan and Adam.

Sighing, Ronan looked around then released a small bit of cataclysmic energy from his fingertips and let it burn the leaf and its message away.

He spent the next half hour trying to busy himself with various tasks— staring at the art, folding cranes out of sticky notes, tossing those cranes into the trash from a few feet away. Fuck, he even swept the floor, which did not happen.

And then three o’clock rolled around and it was time to go. Ronan stood from his chair, pushing down his nervousness as he moved to the back room to change into his to-go Greywaren outfit. Since they weren’t actually fighting and shit during this meeting, he let himself burn some energy to portal into the warehouse instead of just taking the fucking bus or something.

Dramatic entrances were always more fun, anyway.

When he stepped out of the portal and into the warehouse, he was greeted with a large folding table with six people in various states of surprise at his arrival. Looking almost bored and not even batting an eyelash were Adam, Declan, and Blue, who had all seen the trick more times than they could count. Adam and Blue were in their official costumes, masks and all, but Declan was just in his usual dull gray suit, ever official.

Then there were the other three people in the room, one in a suit like Declan and two supers in their own costumes. The woman in the suit looked up as he entered and blinked but then returned to writing something on a notepad. One of the supers wore a dark red hoodie that completely zipped over their face so Ronan couldn’t gauge their expression, but they whistled. “Damn.” The other one, a woman with red hair wearing a long black trench coat and floppy hat falling over her eyes, nodded in greeting.

“Nice of you to join us, Greywaren,” Adam— Apothecary— said dryly as Ronan sat in the empty seat by Declan. “Now that everyone is here, we can begin. Let’s start with some quick introductions. I’m Apothecary, I’ve got plant magic, and I used to work in the villain branch of the League as a hero.” He nodded to the person in red to go next.

“I’m Chameleon, I’m a power copycat and art forger,” she said. “I’m in the hero branch and also a hero? It’s ridiculous that they call _all_ of us heroes.”

Ronan snorted in quiet agreement.

“Hello, my name is Carmen and I am a representative in the villain branch,” the woman in the suit said, nodding. “I facilitate visits for power testing for high schools.”

“I am Oracle,” said the super next to her. Her voice was quiet and her lips barely moved as she introduced herself. It was kind of unnerving. “I have the ability to see visions of the future and am a hero in the villains branch, though I do not go out for battles very often. My work lies mainly behind the scenes.”

Next was Blue, who waved. Some of the baubles hanging off the silver belt around her waist clinked together as she moved. “Hey, my name’s Looking Glass and I make illusions as a hero for the hero branch.”

Declan looked up as she finished. In his usual pleasant but terribly dull tone, he said “My name is Declan and I am a representative for the hero branch. I manage our heroes, as some of them can be quite a handful.” He side-eyed Ronan as he said this, and Ronan did not hesitate flipping him off.

“Greywaren, hero for the heroes. I can harness the power of the cataclysmic realm and shit,” Ronan said gruffly, ignoring the pointed look from his brother. His introduction was perfectly fucking civil, Declan was just obnoxious.

Adam only nodded. “Alright, so let’s begin.” He pulled out a binder and handed everyone a piece of paper. It was a list of names and aliases, printed in incredibly small font and taking up every bit of space on both the front and back. Ronan knew exactly what this was before Adam even began to explain. “So far, these are all of the supers that have gone missing, both in Henrietta and DC, where this all started. My friend there hacked into the League’s database and is cross-referencing with our list of everyone who disappeared— nearly a third of all the supers in the area were taken. It’s been on the down low, it was mostly minor heroes and civilians, but that’s still a lot.

Henrietta is not too far from DC, so we have reason to believe that they’re operating somewhere in the Virginia area because of this. That also means that they’re probably keeping the captured supers around here too. I’m not entirely sure what they’ve been doing with these supers, but we have to act fast before more people are taken. Not only is it a threat to public morale, but the people of Henrietta, supers or not. Though most of our fights are more orchestrated and just for show, there were heroes out there actually helping people. _We_ were helping. Now that a lot of those supers are gone, the crime rates in DC have been rising. Most people are unaware of the cause, but they’re beginning to get antsy. Not to mention, whoever is behind this might be planning some sort of attack on supers, even the League which puts us into even more danger.”

Ronan, though he’d barely been paying attention to Adam’s words and instead was trying not to directly stare at him in his old Apothecary outfit, scoffed at that. “Who fucking cares about someone wanting to topple the League? Isn’t what we’re doing here going against them already?”

“Yeah, he’s got a bit of a point,” piped up Chameleon.

Adam could be incredibly charming. (Isn’t that why Ronan fell in love with him to begin with?) That charm made people want to stand with him, to agree with him and follow him. When he got like this, passionate but eloquent and precise, it was hard not to listen. It made you want to agree to everything he said. Truthfully, Ronan had never been an exception to this, but he did enjoy irritating him. So when Chameleon had expressed agreement with Ronan instead of silently nodding along to what Adam said, Ronan was impressed.

Adam sighed but his reply was immediate. “Alright, it is, but if the League goes down, this concerns a lot more than just Henrietta or DC. The League is an international organization, if someone were to get into the Henrietta League’s information, they could easily hack into the rest of the national then the international Leagues’ systems and have a perfect list of new targets. I don’t know about you, but I don’t really want that.”

Alright, that was an incredibly valid point. Adam had always been the better debater. Ronan rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”

“Fantastic,” Adam said with a secret smile at him, one that said _I win_. It affected Ronan far more than he cared to admit. He looked away and Adam continued laying down his plan. A few times, Carmen or Declan or Blue would pipe up with a question, but for the most part they all let Adam talk. They nodded along and shared an idea.

The entire time, Ronan continued to stare at the list in his hands. Adam’s voice got farther and farther away as he read the list until all that was left was a deafening silence. There were so many fucking supers on this list. Why was he even here? This was a job for a real hero, someone who took charge and had a plan and had the capability to do more than just blow shit up.

Someone like Adam. Like Greywaren, the real one. Fuck, even someone like Declan.

Ronan was not a hero. Not in the ways that mattered. This was not a job for him, it was something much bigger and fitting for real heroes.

The paper was beginning to crinkle in his tight grasp, right next to the most recent name: _Flynn Jameson — Fireball_. Ronan felt sick. He couldn’t even save him when it’d mattered, why the fuck would he be able to help anyone else?

Ronan wasn’t even sure what Adam was saying when he stood up. Everyone turned to Ronan, but he was still looking at the list. Without even saying anything, he pushed in his chair and started out of the building.

 _Sorry Dad_ , Ronan thought bitterly as he pushed open the door, _it wasn’t going to be me_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ronan's not having too much fun, oopsie. thanks for reading, the rest of the fic will be posted next week so stat tuned! until then, you can catch me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/adverbialnouns) or [tumblr](http://adverbialstarlight.tumblr.com)
> 
> ps spot ly's strong political opinions lmao


	3. Chapter 3

Ronan was behind the warehouse, kind of feeling like absolute shit and taking off his shirt. It was really fucked up how normal an occurrence this was, but that was the life of a superhero. As he was grabbing his normal black t-shirt out of a pocket in the cataclysmic realm he’d made specifically to store some clothing, there were footsteps coming around the building. He stiffened and yanked the shirt out, whirling around.

Adam appeared in front of him, still in his Apothecary getup except for the mask. His eyes were gentle as he approached, putting his hands up placatingly at Ronan’s alarmed expression. “It’s just me, sorry for scaring you.”

Ronan watched Adam’s eyes drift lower then snap back up to his own. His face was tinged pink and once again Ronan was hit by longing— to tease him and step closer, to taste Adam’s beautiful lips again and laugh. He stayed where he was and only raised an eyebrow as he pulled on the shirt.

“The fuck are you doing out here?” he asked. “You’ve still got an audience and shit.”

Adam rolled his eyes and continued walking until he was only a few centimeters away. He smelled of lavender and citrus. “Ronan,” he said quietly, patiently, searching Ronan’s face. “I won’t assume, things can change in two years, but is this about…”

Ronan looked down at Adam’s shoulder, unable to look at his eyes any longer. If he did, he’d probably break down right then and fucking there. He hated how easy he was to read. Adam was always able to just walk right up and fucking obliterate any defenses Ronan had up. (He’d practically tossed it live and beating in the palm of Adam’s hand. It was what made it so easy to be so entirely crushed.)

The lack of response was good as affirmation. Adam closed the rest of the space and put his hands on Ronan’s shoulders. “Lynch. _Ronan_. Look at me,” he said.

When Ronan continued staring down, one of Adam’s hands came to his chin, gently guiding his head up until Ronan had no choice but to look at him. Adam’s grip was loose enough that he could step out if he really wanted to, but Ronan remained rooted in place. He didn’t resist.

Adam’s hand moved back to his shoulder but left sparks in its wake. It was like he didn’t even fucking know what he did to Ronan just by existing, by being this close and touching him. “I don’t know what exactly is going on in your head,” he said quietly, “but I think I have a pretty good idea. So just hear me out for a minute, okay?”

Ronan was holding his breath, his heart hammering and thoughts spinning. Still, he managed to shake his head. “You don’t understand Parrish,” he said quietly. “That last one taken, the kid, I was there when it happened. Whoever the fuck is taking these people was there. They’re some sort of telekinetic and he kicked my ass. Fireball is who fucking knows where now. I couldn’t save him, so I can’t save whoever’s next either. I’m not _him._ ”

A small smile curled on Adam’s lips, his eyes crinkling a bit at the corners in the way he’d always hated but Ronan adored. “Your dad was a great superhero. That’s just a fact. And you may not be exactly like him, but that’s okay. And before you say anything, I mean it. You’re a pretty fucking fantastic hero, a fantastic person. You’ve always been, even if you don’t think so. Greywaren is _you_ , now, not Niall.” His hand moved up to brush against Ronan’s jaw, his face had drawn nearer, his voice dropped lower. Ronan felt like he was suffocating, but not entirely in a bad way.

“It might have been two years, but I knew you Ronan. I still know you, to an extent. You are the most amazing, selfless, brave person I know and ever have, and if anyone can help all these people it’s you. If you weren’t I wouldn’t have come and asked you specifically for help. You’re a fucking hero, and I know that you want to, so help me help some people. Together.”

Their noses were practically touching now, and it would take barely any effort to kiss Adam right then and there.

Ronan didn’t. He missed Adam, he missed him so fucking much. He missed these fiery speeches of affirmation and pure love, his nearness. He missed being an _us._ It would be so easy to pretend they’d always remained like this, that this was just another one of Adam’s usual “push some common sense into the boyfriend” talks.

But he couldn’t do it, no matter how much he wanted to. Still, he didn’t move away. He let himself have this moment, feeling Adam’s breath against his skin and having him close, completely and utterly focused on Adam. He was an acolyte knelt before the altar in complete and utter devotion. Nothing else mattered for now, not the missing supers or the broken history between them. It was just Ronan and Adam, close in both physical proximity and spirit.

Finally, he whispered, “Alright.”

Adam’s grin was small but bright and blinding. Ronan’s heart slammed against the constraints of his chest and he felt light-headed. “We’ll talk more about this telekinetic later, but for now just take things one at a time.”

Then, Adam was closing his eyes and leaning his forehead against Ronan’s. It was the most natural thing in the world, but both of them froze.

Suddenly Ronan was rigid as stone again, and Adam pulled back as if splashed by acid. “I— I’m sorry, I don’t know why I did that,” he said quickly, looking down and stepping back until he was a foot away.

It was for the best, but Ronan felt the temptation to bring him near again. He cleared his throat, hoping his face wasn’t as red as he thought it was. “It’s uh, it’s okay. Don’t worry about it Parrish,” he said awkwardly, looking at his feet. The boot covers for his Greywaren uniform were still covering his usual sneakers, and he kicked them off. “Well, I’ll see you around I guess. Until the next meeting and shit unless Dick decides to set up another thing.”

“Right, right,” Adam said, nodding. “See you then.”

“Yup,” Ronan nodded. Motherfucker, he had to go before he said something even more stupid. This was getting bad _fast_. Instead of that though, he said, “Cool.”

He mentally kicked himself. What the fuck was he even doing anymore? He really, really had to go.

“Cool,” Adam replied. His eyes widened minutely, as if thinking the same thing. He gestured behind him, slowly backing away. “Uh, well I’m gonna head back.”

“Yeah, yeah, totally, Parrish,” Ronan said quickly. “Well, uh, bye.”

Quickly, he opened a portal, scooped up his bag, and jumped through before he could do anything else stupid. A moment later, Ronan stumbled into his living room. He went over and fell onto the couch, grimacing. “Well, that went fucking fantastic.”

* * *

“Ronan,” Declan said, storming into the living room. His voice was level, but from the way his phone was gripped tightly in his hand and his hair was uncharacteristically disheveled, Ronan could tell how pissed he was. “I know you don’t like to use your phone, but now that you’re a hero, you _have_ to pick up when someone calls you.”

Ronan scowled. “I’ll do what I fucking want,” he said flippantly. “It was Whelk, I’m not talking to that scumfuck.”

Declan pinched the bridge of his nose, obviously trying not to fully lose his shit. It amused Ronan, who leaned back and put down the Xbox console to watch. “I know you don’t really like him after the squabble he had with Noah a few years ago—”

“You mean when the bastard tried to murder him.”

“Yes, that, I understand you’re upset about that, but he is a League representative, when he calls, you need to pick up. You know a kid went missing today? Guess who was supposed to go and find and save him two hours ago?”

Ronan raised an eyebrow. “The fucking police who don’t do their damn job?”

“No— well, yes, I suppose,” Declan said. “But they’ve always been like that, the point _is_ that Greywaren was supposed to be there to come and save him. Since you didn’t bother to answer your phone because you’re petty, the League actually called in Apothecary. The _supervillain_ is out there trying to help this boy instead of the hero. Do you see what’s wrong with that picture, Ronan?”

“Not really,” Ronan shrugged. “Apothecary is technically a hero by League standards too. Let the dude save the fucking kid once and a while, I don’t fucking care. That’s less work for me to do anyway.”

Declan growled. “You’re impossible, you know that? Why can’t you just be more like—”

Ronan’s head snapped up and now his face was twisted into a snarl as well. “Finish that, I fucking dare you. Say what you were going to say, who you were about to compare me to. Who you fucking wish I was.”

“Ronan, I didn’t mean what you’re implying and we both know it,” Declan said sternly, though he inched back towards the door minutely. “You’re fine, all I’m saying is that—”

“I’ll never amount to shit like Dad did, yeah, yeah,” Ronan brushed him off. “This is bullshit, I’m gonna take a nap. Fuck you and the League’s bullshit.”

Before Declan could get another word in, Ronan was up and storming into his room. The door slammed in Declan’s face and Ronan shoved on his headphones with shaking hands. As the main door of their house shut, Ronan closed his eyes and turned his music up a few more decibels, doing his best to drown out the world.

About ten minutes later, he did manage to haul himself out of bed again. Despite the volume, he couldn’t escape the sinking guilt about the kid he’d ignored, and eventually snapped. Ronan sighed, pulled on his Greywaren costume, portaled to the League’s headquarters, and set off to find where the fuck Apothecary was to aid in the search.

Thanks to the League’s love for stalking, it didn’t take too long to find him. The League liked to track all their precious heroes’ whereabouts through representatives, and fortunately for Ronan, he and Apothecary were tasked to the same one. Robobee— who never gave his real name because he liked the mystery of code names or whatever the fuck— was a young man who was incredibly tech savvy and always relayed intel when Ronan was on the job. Or, in this case, the location of Apothecary, who had not yet recovered the missing kid.

Ronan wasn’t sure why Robobee couldn’t call and give missions too, since he was far more pleasant if not obnoxious than Whelk, but Ronan was quickly learning that the League didn’t really like valid questions about their operations.

After detangling himself from a conversation with Robobee over his comms, Ronan stepped out of a portal and onto a downtown side street. It was only a few blocks from Aglionby Academy, much to Ronan’s dismay, but at least the warehouse he stood next to offered some shade. Though his Greywaren costume was sleek and well-designed, even the League’s advanced tech was no match for the intense late summer sun.

Apothecary stood a few feet away, creating an intricate pattern of ivy around his wrist that immediately stopped growing when Ronan appeared. “Oh good, you’ve come,” Apothecary nodded. His voice was much more regular when it was just the two of them, with a slight twang that was noticeably absent every time he spewed whatever nonsensical script the League subjected him to when on camera.

Ronan shrugged. “I personally thought you had it and all was fine and dandy, but apparently you didn’t do shit, so.”

Apothecary rolled his eyes. “Did Robobee give you all the needed intel?”

“Yup. The kid is probably somewhere in the eastern section. Whoever took him is uncreative if we’re unlucky, and most of the time they go there since there’s more empty buildings around.”

Apothecary looked surprised, as if he hadn’t expected Ronan to actually take these missions seriously— which was honestly fair enough since their staged fights were a goddamn joke so he barely tried at all— but then nodded. “That’s a good idea. We should probably go now.”

Ronan was about to open a portal to the usual place he dropped in, but he looked to Apothecary. “Uhh, you want a ride, I guess? It’s probably gonna suck ass going through the cataclysmic realm when you don’t do it all the time, but it’s the fastest way to go.”

A small snort left Apothecary’s lips. “Charming.”

“I never said I was good with words,” Ronan grumbled. _Or anything with people_ , he thought. His broken relationship with his brother and the trainwreck with Adam was proof of that.

Apothecary raised an eyebrow. “Really?” he asked dryly. “I personally think you’re an absolute poet. Can sweep anyone off their feet instantaneously.”

“Yeah, well not anyone like, so,” Ronan muttered quietly, hoping Apothecary didn’t hear.

“Oh?” Apothecary asked. Well fuck you too, universe.

Ronan sighed. “It’s nothing. He’d never be into me anyway.” He cleared his throat. “If you’re not coming along, I’m gonna leave your ass here.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Apothecary said, shaking his head. “Though if you’re up for it, I’ve got a pretty good way to get around as well. It’s not as dramatic as dimension jumping, but it’s fast.”

Ronan raised an eyebrow. “And what would that be? You swing across the city on a fucking vine like you’re Tarzan?”

“Something like that. You in?”

For a long moment, Ronan considered it. Portaling _did_ take a lot of energy, so if Apothecary was offering another way that didn’t involve exhausting him early, it seemed like a pretty good idea. “What the hell, sure.”

As Apothecary wrapped them in a sphere of some sort of plant— Ronan wasn’t a botanist so he wasn’t sure what, all he knew was that it was cool inside and it was green— he turned to Ronan. “Ready?”

Ronan shrugged. There was nothing to lose from whatever this was.

When Apothecary maneuvered the sphere back into a waiting vine and fucking launched the sphere out like it was a marble in a slingshot, Ronan quickly changed his mind. There was something to lose. His fucking lunch.

“What the actual fuck!” he shouted as they hurtled through the air at terrifying speed.

Apothecary turned to him and grinned. “Fast, isn’t it?”

“You’re fucking insane,” Ronan said through gritted teeth. “How does the League even let you do this shit?” _And how have I never actually seen it happen before?_

“Actually, Whelk was the one who recommended it,” Apothecary said. “He said it added to the drama and the excitement of seeing a giant fern soaring through the air as you’re on the way home. Personally I find that reasoning ridiculous, but it’s fun so I don’t complain too much.”

Ronan’s face darkened at the mention of Whelk, old anger replacing his current terror. “You’ve got to deal with that asshole too? God, I hate his fucking guts.”

Apothecary raised an eyebrow. “Honestly, he’s not too bad. I respect him.”

“I fucking don’t,” Ronan spat.

“Oh?”

Ronan was about to explain, but stopped himself at the last moment. Talking about Noah would give away details about his mundane life, which was an unspoken Bad Thing according to the League. It was a very small thing in the scheme of things, but Apothecary was sharp and could figure it out if he wanted to. If Ronan was unfortunate enough, Apothecary might even know Noah himself. There was too much risk.

Ronan shook his head. “He did some bad shit to someone I know. Also, his face is punchable as fuck.”

Apothecary gave him a long glance, head tilting in unspoken question, but luckily he dropped it. He faced forward again. “We’re almost there. Brace yourself for landing.”

A sigh of relief left Ronan’s lips. Still, he raised an eyebrow. “How the fuck am I supposed to do that?”

“You’ll see,” Apothecary replied, amusement dripping from his voice.

“Wait, wh—”

Ronan cut off as their sphere suddenly stopped, then, like Wile E. motherfucking Coyote, began hurtling towards the ground. His arms shot out to grab on the sides of the sphere, grasping at whatever he could. Apothecary was snickering in delight. “What the actual fuck, man?”

“My deepest apologies,” Apothecary said unapologetically. Then, with a wave of his hand, some of the plant tendrils unraveled on the sides and spread like spider legs. With a bumpy thud, the sphere hit concrete and the plants began to shrivel up. They crunched under Ronan’s boots as Apothecary guided Ronan out of the decomposing plant. “Fun, isn’t it?”

Ronan shook his head. “When we’re done here, we’re gonna go my way. God, how do you even _do_ that all the time?”

Apothecary shrugged. “Not always. Sometimes I just ride my bike. Now c’mon, we got a kid to find still.”

He started down the street with confidence, as if he didn’t look like he was a misplaced Assassin’s Creed cosplayer. Ronan had no choice but to follow after him, still slightly dazed and wobbly on his feet as he tried to keep up.

* * *

A few nights after the initial meeting with Adam’s collected team, Ronan was on patrol with Blue again. It was a quiet night, there were only a few lights still on and crime rates were lower if the comms feeds were anything to go by. If there was something up, it’d go to one of the minor heroes to take care of.

Technically, Blue was a minor hero too, but she never shied away from expressing her dislike for the League’s need for hierarchy. In her opinion, all heroes should’ve been equal, not two main ones on a pedestal while the rest of them were there to fill in the background.

The two of them sat on top of a neon sign for a laundromat, idling as they watched the city below. To ensure no one would spot them and either a) try to kick them off and arrest them for trespassing, or b) recognize their iconic outfits and ask for a picture or a trick, Blue had a minor illusion covering them.

“You know,” Blue said suddenly, “I’m honestly scared shitless right now.”

Ronan turned to her, brows furrowing. It was a very un-Blue thing to say, and he was unsure what she was even talking about. Still, he nodded silently.

“I talked a bit more to Adam after you left about the situation in DC and it’s just so _terrible_ and _huge_ I’m not sure we can even take whoever’s doing this on,” she admitted. “Sure, maybe you two can since you’re super powerful and all, but what about the rest of us? Not everyone’s received so much defensive training. Some of us are just regular civilians, who don’t even know about this. It isn’t just League members who’re in danger here. It’s Gansey and Noah. It’s my _mom_. I just… how the fuck are we gonna protect everyone, Ronan?”

Ronan was silent for a long moment. Then, barely audible, he said, “I have no fucking idea. Fuck, I can barely help Henrietta from fucking gas spills and muggings, I’m such a bad hero. But we need to at least try. I don’t give a fuck about the League, but I’m not going to let anything happen to you or any of our friends. I’ll fight God my fucking self if I have to. We’ll figure this out no matter what it takes.”

Blue turned to him. “And if it takes everything?”

Ronan’s jaw clenched as he continued to stare out ahead. “Then we give it everything. I don’t care what happens to me. It’s bigger than just my sorry ass.”

“Oh fuck off,” Blue said, elbowing him. “You’re worth a lot too. I don’t care if you think it’s bullshit, I think you _are_ the city’s best Super so it’s fact.”

“And who made you the expert, maggot?”

“Easy,” Blue said seriously, “I did.”

Ronan cackled, leaning back. “Yeah, okay, whatever.”

They fell back into a comfortable silence, the tension in the air dissipated slightly. Every now and then, some super or other would be trapezing down the streets or running across the streets, a camera crew not too far behind. They were going to make sure that remained, Ronan reminded himself.

Staged fights were still ridiculous, but Ronan would gladly put up with a thousand more if it meant the city was safe. If it meant his friends were safe. After all, he was Greywaren, the protector of the city. His dad had left a huge legacy to live up to, but with something like this, Ronan might prove himself as worthy.

“So,” Blue eventually said. “What’s up with you and Adam now?”

Ronan’s head whipped over to her. “The fuck are you talking about?” he asked, face beginning to warm. Shit, why did he have to be so goddamn pale?

Blue’s grin was mischievous as she continued. “After the meeting the other day, he went after you. Like, the moment you were out the door he was up and going after you and didn’t come back in for a few more minutes. Did something happen there? I mean, I know things ended badly between you before but…”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Ronan grumbled. “There’s nothing there. Not anymore. And there won’t be again.”

“How are you so sure?” Blue asked quietly, head tilting to the side. “Even before you got together, you were pretty damn close, it’s not a bond that can be broken so easily.”

“And yet he managed to do it with a single fucking snap,” Ronan said bitterly. “He made his decision, Blue. And when Parrish makes up his mind, he doesn’t fucking change it. We’re working together now, but it doesn’t mean anything. I doubt he even wants to be friends again. I sure as fuck don’t want to be.”

Blue scoffed. “That’s a lie and we both know it, Lynch. As for Adam, you don’t know unless you actually talk to him. You wanna know why things are so _awkward_ between you two? Because you’re both too stubborn to actually communicate your feelings to each other. That’s what broke you up and that’s what will keep you that way. You might’ve made a treaty for now, but that won’t work forever.”

Ronan rolled his eyes. She had a really good point. She always did. It was ridiculous. “This is bullshit. Why do I even fucking talk to you?”

“You’re welcome,” Blue replied easily.

Then, the com sitting on Blue’s other side crackled to life and Robobee’s voice broke through the quiet. “Looking Glass, do you copy?”

“Yes, what’s up?” Blue asked, picking it up. She glanced at Ronan. _Duty calls_ , she mouthed.

“Given that your signal is currently coming from a laundromat, you’re either doing laundry on the job or gossiping with Greywaren again,” Robobee said.

Blue replied easily. “Laundry. What’s on our agenda?”

“Fantastic,” Robobee said, unphased. “We’ve got a situation just a few blocks away from where you guys are and since you’re closest, the League wants you two on it. Wait for the camera crew to get within a few blocks so the fight can be ‘stumbled upon’ for the news tomorrow morning, but then head out.”

Ronan snorted. “But of course. Later, Henry.”

“I should’ve never told you guys my real name,” he muttered sadly.

“Fine. Later, _Robobee_ ,” Ronan corrected. Drama queen.

Robobee’s reply was much more enthusiastic at that. “Yep, see you guys later!”

Ronan looked to Blue with a sigh. “Shall we then?” he asked sarcastically.

Blue nodded, dropping her illusion as she stood. “A hero’s work is never done.”

“It never will be,” Ronan muttered as they climbed down. Not until this kidnapping issue was solved, anyway.

* * *

Ronan was learning a new, very important lesson of superhero bullshit this week. It wasn’t the essential balance of your mundane life and your life as a Super or the great responsibility that comes with great power or however the fuck the quote went. Rather, it was that being a superhero made for absolutely no time to take a damn nap.

(Perhaps that was why Niall had rarely been around when Ronan and his brothers were little. It was no excuse, but it was beginning to make sense.)

 _It doesn’t leave room for homework either_ , Ronan thought to himself in amusement. _Parrish would probably have a fucking aneurysm if he were a hero_.

This afternoon’s fight against some smaller villain he already forgot the name of was fortunately closer to his house than most, so afterwards— for show and also for basic fucking convenience— Ronan had created a portal in the side of the building and into his house.

Ronan sighed as the portal closed behind him, pulling the mask off his sweaty face. He was about to go into the kitchen for the pack of goldfish Matthew had promised to leave out but then froze in place.

“Fuck,” he said, blinking a few times and rubbing at his eyes. “ _Fuck_.”

Adam Parrish stared back at him, face mostly blank but his eyes wide. Ronan had known him long enough— stared at him long enough— by now to know that he was just as surprised. “Ronan.”

Adam was holding the potted cactus from the windowsill, his hand hovering over it as if petting the plant. There were a few blossoms Ronan didn’t remember sitting at its base, but Ronan didn’t register any of it. He was too focused on the fact that _Adam_ was _here_ right _now_.

“You’re— you’re not supposed to be here right now,” Ronan muttered, still in shock. Then, again, since he didn’t know what else to say, “Fuck.”

Declan was going to murder Ronan for being careless. Adam knew it was him now. He was probably disappointed and never wanted to speak to Ronan again. Declan would probably give Adam a whole fucking speech and an NDA—

“Er, sorry. You weren’t answering your phone and your brother Matthew let me in,” Adam said. “He said to tell you that he went to 7-Eleven and would be back soon. Uh, I can go if you want?”

Ronan tried to calm his breathing before he spoke, fists clenching so he wouldn’t fully lose his shit. “I— no, we should probably talk? Yeah. Fuck.”

Adam nodded. “That would be a good idea, I think.”

He was oddly calm about the whole thing, as if he found out his friends were huge superheroes every single fucking day. To know someone was a Super was one thing, but to be an official headlining _hero_ should not have gotten such a chill reaction. Ronan was simultaneously relieved and even more terrified.

He nodded, mostly to himself. “Yeah. Cool, okay, I’m gonna be right back so I’m not in… all this.” Ronan stammered out something else, probably another _cool_ because he was a fucking idiot, and speed walked down the hall to his room.

Once the door shut behind him, Ronan leaned against it and put his head in his hands. “Fuck,” he yelled into them, muffled but full of intent. For a few long moments, Ronan didn’t move. Then, slowly, he let himself slide down until he was sitting. Ronan yelled again, not caring that Adam was only a room away and could most definitely hear his freak out. Fuck whatever judgment came from this, if Adam had to do this, he’d be freaking out too, no matter how much he pretended to always be calm and collected.

After sitting there in his misery for five more seconds, Ronan let out a long breath. “Get your fucking shit together,” he muttered to himself and stood. Without really paying attention, Ronan grabbed a random shirt and pair of pants off the dump that was his bedroom floor and quickly began to pull off his Greywaren attire. The suit was a bit hard to take off, with complex belts here and zippers there, but as long as it looked cool as shit, Ronan supposed that was all that mattered. Besides, the ridiculous routine of unsnapping latches gave him an excuse to hide in his room for a bit longer. He decided to take his sweet fucking time.

Was it the most cowardly thing he’d done in his goddamn life? Yes, absolutely. But that was not the point. The point was that Adam knew his secret now, and Ronan had no idea what the hell to do about it.

As he tossed his belt onto the bed, his phone slid out of the pocket. Ronan stared at it for a moment. _Do I_ really _want to do this?_ he wondered. After a moment, he decided no, he absolutely did not, but desperate times called for desperate fucking measures.

Ronan scowled as he stomped over, turned on his phone, and pressed Declan’s contact.

The phone rang for a few moments before Declan’s impatient voice echoed out. “Ronan, I’ve got a meeting with the Director in a few moments and you should _really_ —”

“I fucked up,” Ronan interrupted with a growl.

Declan’s tone somehow became even more annoyed than before. What a fucking dickhead. “I’m not surprised. Why does this warrant you calling me though? I can’t get you to pick up when you have a mission and yet you—”

Done with his brother’s bullshit already, Ronan cut in again. “Parrish knows. He was here when I got back and I was still wearing the stupid fucking outfit. What the hell am I supposed to do now?”

For once, Declan had nothing to say. He was silent for a moment. Then, lowly, “You _what_?”

“Yeah, I know it’s bad. I even told you, _I fucked up_ ,” Ronan sighed. “Now give me your sage representative wisdom.”

“I’m— you know what, alright. Is your friend still there?”

“Yup. He’s in the living room,” Ronan said, rolling his eyes. He sat down on the bed and leaned back to stare at the ceiling.

Declan’s voice got sharper. “And you left him there? Ronan, he could go and spread this information to—”

“What, the _bad guys_?” Ronan asked mockingly. “It wouldn’t fucking matter anyway since we’re all the same around here. Also, I’m just in my room so chill the fuck out.”

“This is serious Ronan. If he tells anyone about this, you’re both going to be in some deep shit with the League,” Declan scolded.

Ronan’s grip on the phone tightened. “You think I don’t fucking know that? I said I do already, I wouldn’t be calling you at all if it wasn’t bad. Just tell me what to do already, for fuck’s sake.”

Declan was quiet for a long second, probably composing himself. “Go out there,” he said calmly, “and talk to him. Explain the situation and why it’s important to keep things a secret from anyone. Why he can’t tell his family, his friends, his girlfriend or boyfriend, whatever. Absolutely no one.”

Ronan rolled his eyes. Well, he could have figured that shit out without Declan’s help. This call was useless. “Whatever, I’ll tell Adam not to say anything. Doubt he will, but I dunno.”

“Wait,” Declan said, voice strange. “Adam Parrish?”

“Uh, yeah?” Ronan said, brows furrowing. “That’s what I fucking said. What’s it to you? You gonna look up his entire fucking background like you did with Gansey and Noah?”

Declan cleared his throat. “Well, I certainly can if you want me to. It’s nothing. Just tell him, Ronan. Please. The sooner you do, the sooner I can take care of this mess.”

Ronan rolled his eyes again, ignoring his brother’s weird behavior for now. “Yeah, whatever.”

He hung up and threw his phone in some random direction, sitting up slowly. There was no telling what Declan was about to do to _take care of it_ , but whatever it was, Ronan wasn’t sure he wanted to even care. He stood up and finished changing clothes, slowly tying the strings of his sweatpants just to eat up a bit more time. This was going to be awful.

When Ronan couldn’t stall any longer, he pushed his door open again and silently walked back out to the living room. As he came into the doorway though, he froze once again. It was like he’d been punched in the face for the second time in the past ten fucking minutes.

Still sitting on the couch, Adam still held the cactus, but the hand not holding the pot was now touching the top of the plant, despite the spines. There was a crease of concentration between his brows as he stared at the cactus, but for once that wasn’t what caught Ronan’s attention. Rather, it was the array of small pink flowers that began to bloom on the cactus beneath his touch, at a rapid, unnatural pace. It was like watching a time lapse of multiple weeks, but instead it had only been a few seconds. _And it was because of Adam_.

Pieces began to meld together with force in Ronan’s mind as he watched, each one making more sense than the last. His similar level of exhaustion. His strange, ever-changing work schedule at his “weekend job”. The familiarity of his name when Ronan mentioned him to Declan. It could just be a coincidence, sure, but Ronan was almost sure he knew what he was seeing. More specifically, _who_ he was seeing.

“Apothecary,” Ronan choked out, his eyes wide.

Adam’s head snapped up and he startled, dropping the cactus. Dirt from the pot spilled into his lap and onto the sofa, but Adam hardly noticed it. There was some surprise in his eyes, but even then, they were steady as ever as they held Ronan’s gaze. Despite everything, he smiled.

“Looks like we both had somethin’ to hide,” Adam shrugged, practically drawling. “ _Greywaren_.”

“What the fuck.”

* * *

Exciting, sometimes life-threatening events happening when Ronan and Blue were together as heroes was starting to become a _thing_ and Ronan wasn’t too happy about it.

They were sitting on the laundromat sign again when both their comms began to ping. Ronan sighed and pulled his out, squinting at the bright screen as he read the message. It was a general distress call, sent to any hero who was in the immediate area. The ping was from an office just down the street and the next hero was over a mile away.

Sometimes the League was lazy. When it was ass o’clock in the morning, they didn’t really care who took an assignment as long as there was _someone_ there. General distress calls were sent to a computer at the headquarters which automatically notified heroes nearby to check things out. It was another thing that Ronan was pretty sure should’ve been the police’s job, but wasn’t everything they did?

Ronan sighed. “Something’s up in the tech center,” he told Blue. “You want to take it or should I?”

“Ugh,” Blue said. She leaned back, dropping the illusion over them. “I’ve got work in like three hours, can you?”

Ronan shrugged. He had nowhere to be tomorrow and wouldn’t be getting any sleep for a while anyway. “Sure, maggot.”

Blue grinned. “You’re the best. Have fun checking out ghosts, Dean Winchester.”

General distress calls were notorious for being absolutely ridiculous half the time. Sure, sometimes someone was about to get knifed at the gas station, but some people were under the impression that they were also Ghostbusters. In his early days, Ronan had once taken a general call and instead of doing something all heroic and brave, he spent fifteen minutes listening to a kid rant about how they were positive that there was a ghost haunting their room because the light kept flickering. Ronan had to help them google shit about warding off ghosts and sprinkle some table salt around the window.

When Ronan told her, Blue had fallen over laughing at the prospect of Ronan being _nice_ to some idiotic thirteen year old and since hadn’t stopped bringing it up whenever a general call came in.

“Whatever,” Ronan said, rolling his eyes as he tapped the “accept” button on his comm. Still, he couldn’t help but snort in amusement.

The two of them headed their separate ways. Ronan scaled the sign and dropped down to the street, taking his time to walk to the office building the signal was coming from. He’d been doing this superhero bullshit for long enough that he knew the way without having to look at his comm for a map and pondered the call. It could literally be anything, but the League always advised heroes to be prepared for the worst-case scenario anyway.

Ronan supposed that they had a point, but he couldn’t help but think it was ridiculous anyway. What the fuck was the point going in guns a-blazing to help an old person stand up from where they fell in their apartment’s stairwell? Those calls were easier than, say, stopping a bank robbery on two hours of sleep and a Red Bull, but they had their own unpleasantries. And all of them required a ridiculous amount of fucking paperwork.

Declan would tell Ronan not to be so lazy, that he was _helping people_ , but he wasn’t the one who had to write out every single goddamn detail for the League archives instead of going home to take a nap.

As Ronan walked up to the building, he checked his comm again. The signal was coming from behind the building. Typical. What was a fight when it wasn’t either in the dumpster or on the penthouse floor, right?

He walked up and followed the pavement around. What he wasn’t expecting to see was a legitimate fight, and someone he’d done his best to push out of his mind.

There was a young woman crouched on one of the taller dumpsters, and across from her was the telekinetic who kidnapped Fireball (and probably all the others). They were exactly as Ronan remembered them to be, tall and wearing what seemed to be a classic tux, the kind you’d see on clearance after prom season. It didn’t seem to restrict their movement though— when the woman jumped off the dumpster at them, with an ease and height that had to be attributed to some sort of power, and the telekinetic swiftly stepped aside. A garbage bag rose from one of the dumpsters and it went hurling towards the woman’s head. It hit her in the forehead and she went staggering backwards. She didn’t quite fall, but it was clear it had done some damage. Ronan made a mental note to get her to the hospital afterwards.

 _If I can actually fucking help her_ , he thought bitterly.

He pushed the thought away roughly and ran forward, summoning cataclysmic energy in his fist. While the telekinetic’s back was turned, Ronan threw the energy at their back. It hit them hard, knocking them to their knees, and they turned around to sneer at Ronan. “Greywaren, so we meet again. Think you’re worthy now, do you?”

Ronan shrugged. “I can sure as fuck try.”

With that, he hurled three more spheres of energy in rapid succession. The first one hit their shoulder, but after that one, a trash bag came swinging at Ronan and he had to dodge out of the way. This broke his focus and the other two exploded on the metal walls of a dumpster.

The telekinetic sneered. “Your efforts are in vain, little boy. I bet you’re just as easy to take down as the last Greywaren.”

Ronan’s blood ran cold at that, the adrenaline fading. He felt a numbing anger. Without thinking, he lunged at the telekinetic. “Don’t fucking talk about him.”

Another bag of trash knocked into him and Ronan fell over, the breath knocked out of him for a moment. Unable to talk, he glared at the telekinetic and tried to regain his breath so he could summon his power again.

“Aw, don’t give me that look,” the telekinetic said patronizingly. “Surely you knew already. _Niall_ couldn’t have been so thoroughly crushed because of something natural. It was quite easy, to crush his skull with a cement beam. Clean and easy.”

Ronan stared at him in shock, fists clenching to stop their shaking. Though his chest was already heaving with exertion, Ronan felt paralyzed. He willed himself to keep it together, to not do something completely inane that would leave him the same as his father.

The woman snapped him out of his daze, leaping off a small pile of trash bags behind the telekinetic. Ronan had completely forgotten she was there, hoping she got somewhere safe to take care of that head injury, but apparently not.

Her foot collided with the telekinetic’s back, wiping the smug smirk off his face instantly. “Oh, so it’ll be like that, then.”

Before Ronan could blink, the woman was thrown back, hitting the dumpster with a crack. A spike of fear struck him and he began to crawl over, but the telekinetic grabbed his hood before he could get two inches.

“Do not interfere with my work, or you will regret it deeply,” they said lowly, grip tightening until Ronan looked at them. “Just like your father. Though you’ll never reach his level, which is a shame. I’ll tell you what. Retreat and I’ll let you live, but if you make one more move towards her I’ll kill you both.”

Ronan glowered at him. “Fuck you,” he croaked.

The telekinetic shrugged. “It makes no difference to me. You will be dead by the end of this no matter which you choose. When you crawl back to your League though, tell your brother that Kineticus sends his regards.”

Before Kineticus could do anything else though, Ronan turned roughly and pulled him to the ground. Since he was too surprised to fight back, Ronan easily elbowed Kineticus in the temple, watching as his eyes fell shut.

Ronan leaped up, ignoring the aching and dizziness as he stumbled over to the woman. “Hey, are you alive?” he asked, leaning against the dumpster she slouched against.

“Unfortunately,” she slurred. The woman looked up, blinking at him in the dim light. “Is this some bad dream? Please tell me this is some dream, Greywaren.”

Ronan sighed. “I wish it was. But for now, you’ll be fine.”

He sat down next to her then, tilting his head back on the grimy metal and closing his eyes to stop the spinning.

“Are _you_ dead?” the woman asked. “What are you even doing?”

“Don’t worry about it, I just need a minute. I’ll get a portal up to the HQ and you can get patched up there,” Ronan grunted. He wished she would stop talking. She’d barely said anything, but it was fucking with his concentration.

Luckily, the woman seemed satisfied with his answer and fell back into silence. Two minutes and an awful migraine later, a portal into the cataclysmic realm opened up in front of them and Ronan forced himself to pry his eyes open.

“C’mon,” he said to the woman, pulling himself off the ground. He extended an arm to help her up as well and guided her towards the portal. “I’ve got some paperwork to do now.”

When they entered the League infirmary and the woman was checked in, there was in fact paperwork to do. But once Ronan’s vision stopped swimming, there was a newfound burst of confidence too.

(Half an hour later, as Carmen and Declan debated their team’s next steps in the impromptu team meeting Adam called, he hardly paid it much mind. Ronan and the woman barely made it away from Kineticus, but they’d made it nonetheless. And only a hero would be able to do that, right? Ronan decided not to dwell on it for too long.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oops that was not meant to take so long, my bad! my computer's being weird so finishing this fic for posting has gotten unexpectedly delayed a bit but i swear to all things itll be done within next 2 weeks at most :/


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okaaaaay that took a hot second but ya boi just started college and it drop kicked me and then repeatedly beat me up my bad. hopefully the long chapter will make up for it? we've got one more to go so stay tuned, my actual goal is to have it done and up by the end of september. thanks! (warning: not betaed so sorry for any weirdness :()

The sky was stormy as Ronan trudged into the cafeteria of the office Blue worked in. She was a graphic designer for some humanitarian group while she finished her degree, a job she treated like something temporary until she could get somewhere even bigger. Ronan was known to be a small thinker and therefore was probably a bit biased, but he didn’t really see why she didn’t want to stay here longer.

It paid her well, gave more creative liberties to her than Ronan would’ve assumed for such a huge organization, and this food court had really good fucking sandwiches.

When Blue first invited Ronan and Gansey to have lunch here, Ronan had sneered. But that was before he tried anything from _Sam’s Clubs_. Ronan was still pretty sure they were pushing some sort of copyright controversy with that name, but he didn’t really give a shit. Their subs were extraordinary.

Niall Lynch had made sure to take his family to the most exquisite five-star, five hundred dollar restaurants that he could find whenever he was home, but the world’s most overpriced fillet had absolutely nothing on a turkey sub from Sam’s Clubs. This was no exaggeration.

Ronan ordered his usual sandwich today, not even having to look up at the menu. When the employee handed back his credit card and sub, Ronan dropped a five dollar bill in the tip jar and walked off without another word. (Blue had given him an earful about how important it was to actually tip customer service people when they were seniors in high school. Not that Ronan _hadn’t_ before, though. He was pretty sure she was just picking another fight.)

He found his friends easily. Gansey and Blue were discussing something animatedly over their respective slices of pizza but looked up as Ronan plopped his lunch on the table. And then there was Adam. Though he wasn’t contributing to the conversation, he seemed to have been watching them closely. There was a paper takeout carton full of rice and poke in front of him, and he scooped some rice up with his chopsticks when Ronan sat. He nodded in acknowledgment.

Ronan nodded back and dug into his sandwich. Thankfully, when he made his usual half assed effort to join the conversation, the energy was much less awkward than their last lunch with Blue and Gansey the week before.

“Ronan! I’m glad you could make it today,” Gansey said, beaming.

Shrugging, Ronan replied, “Wouldn’t miss it, Dick.”

“How are the paintings doing?” Blue asked him. She finally took a bite of her pizza, grinning when Ronan wrinkled his nose at the pineapples topping it.

“They haven’t run away yet,” Ronan said dryly. “What about the Papyrus Sans?”

Adam snorted quietly at that. If Ronan weren’t naturally attuned to pay attention to Adam— alright, and if he weren’t sitting right next to him— he probably wouldn’t have noticed at all. Ronan’s eyes slid over to Adam and their gazes locked, warm and full of shared mirth for a moment before Ronan forced himself to turn to Blue again. It’d felt so _normal_ , and Ronan was fighting not to hope that these sort of moments could become a regular occurrence again.

Blue said something snarky in return to his joke, and Ronan stole a fry. There was something about bickering with Blue that somehow calmed Ronan, even with his buzzing, jittery mind. He was completely baffled about where he stood with Adam anymore, but lunch was normal. It was simple, easy.

Well, it was for another fifteen minutes at least. And then, though Ronan doubted he meant to, Gansey shattered it with a single question.

“So, Adam, have you been back to Cabeswater since you’ve been back?” Gansey inquired.

Adam, who had been taking a sip of water, stiffened at the question. When Ronan’s eyes sharply turned to him, Adam became immensely focused on the cap of his water bottle. Blue grimaced and took Gansey’s hand as his face fell and the full context of his question hit.

“Er, my apologies, Adam. You do not have to answer that if you don’t want to,” Gansey tried. But it was too late, the four of them were doused in an awkward silence that no one seemed too eager to fill.

It took a second for Adam to respond. He shook his head and gave a small, fake as fuck smile to Gansey. The smile was the one he used on politicians, on people he didn’t know well and wanted a barrier between. Ronan told Adam that he hated that smile once, especially if he used it on his friends. He wondered if Adam had forgotten that.

“No, no, it’s absolutely alright, Gansey,” Adam assured him. “I’ve not been back, but I’d love to at least once before I leave again.”

Gansey’s eyes lit up again. “Ah, what a shame. Maybe you can tag along with Ronan the next time he goes.”

Ronan turned to Gansey with wide eyes. What the actual fuck was he doing? Sirens blared in his head, the murder squash song at full fucking volume, smothering any cool, coherent thought Ronan might’ve been having.

Cabeswater had also been _their_ place once. Technically, it was the property of whoever the fuck owned the park, but Ronan and Adam had always thought of it as theirs. Cabeswater was no ordinary park, perhaps that’d been why they liked it. Despite being so close to the city, there were rarely any visitors and their group had decided to make it their official hangout place when they weren’t at Nino’s. But when Gansey and Blue (and Noah, when he was actually around) were off doing something else, Ronan and Adam went there alone too. Sometimes they’d invite the others, usually they did not.

After Adam left, Ronan went there sometimes to torture himself. He’d slouch under their tree and think about the new friends Adam had replaced him with. He’d aggressively toss pebbles into the pond and wonder if Adam would think of him when he talked to those friends. Probably not.

Given his full schedule saving Henrietta and whatnot, which had only become more frequent after graduating high school, Ronan didn’t visit as often as he would’ve if his only job was fucking around in the art gallery. The last time he’d gone was a week or so since Adam had returned, and Ronan promised himself he’d never go back when Adam showed up. Ever.

But seeing the way that Adam’s eyes lit up, quietly hopeful and filled with sad nostalgia, Ronan already knew that he was going to break that promise. Adam had always had such an easy time slipping through like that. Once, Ronan hated it. Then, it filled him with a warm, glowing happiness. Now he just felt panic.

“Really?” Adam asked. He turned to Ronan and said quietly, “If you’re fine with that, I’d love to see it again. Only if you’re comfortable though.”

The _since we’re not together anymore_ was unspoken, but everyone heard it anyway. Ronan tried not to wince. Instead he nodded, trying for nonchalance. They were the three people who knew him best, but Ronan didn’t care. He was going to throw that wall up anyway. “Uh, sure I guess. We can go over later today if you’re not busy or something.”

Adam nodded quickly. “Yeah, I think I’d like that.”

Ronan was taken aback. Adam had asked first, sure, but Ronan didn’t think he actually _wanted_ to. And maybe he didn’t. Maybe this was all for the sake of Gansey and Blue, who were watching them like a PBS daytime soap opera.

“Oh. Cool,” he said.

“Cool,” Adam echoed.

There was a long, awkward pause. Ronan internally kicked himself and refocused on his sandwich, ignoring the look Blue was most definitely shooting him. She was definitely going to be giving him shit for it later. Luckily, for now she seemed to be feeling merciful enough to throw him a bone.

“So the elevator was finally fixed,” she said casually.

Ronan scoffed, his shoulders relaxing a bit. “About time. It’s been like a year by now.”

“I don’t understand how they could simply ignore it for so long,” Gansey said, shaking his head.

“Lazy fuckers don’t want to let go of any money on repairs.”

“The building of one of the senators I worked for was similar,” Adam offered up. “He didn’t want any money diverted from campaigning so we walked up five flights of stairs every day when he wanted a new coffee.”

Ronan blinked at him in surprise.

When Adam left, Ronan heard absolutely nothing about his life in DC. He’d looked him up on LinkedIn once just to torture himself, but that only gave vague details about the work Adam was doing while he worked on his degree at George Washington University.

Seeing that he was studying political science and playing assistant for some sleazy politician or other on his computer was one thing, but hearing Adam acknowledge it aloud was something else. They had pretty firmly skirted the topic of what Adam had been up to for the past few years since he’d gotten back, and Ronan was starting to think they might just ignore it permanently. Apparently not.

Ronan wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about it. _It’s a step in the right direction_ , he told himself. Friends told each other anecdotes about their lives. They shared complaints about work. If Adam was comfortable enough to talk about it now, that meant they were kind of friends again, right? Ronan took a large bite of his sandwich.

Blue rolled her eyes, taking an aggressive sip of her soda. “Typical.” Gansey opened his mouth Blue shot him a look before he got anywhere, as if she knew he was about to say something accidentally offensive.

Without really thinking about it, Ronan huffed a laugh and glanced at Adam with a look of fond exasperation that they’d always shared when Blue and Gansey were having a _moment_. As if it were still the most normal thing in the world, Adam’s eyes met his and he smiled back. Once again, Ronan wondered if this meant they were actually friends again. He really hoped so.

The conversation continued after that, light as before. The topic of ignored maintenance problems turned to cheap shortcuts with duct tape to the ridiculousness of Hobby Lobby and other large, openly bigoted corporations. Before Ronan knew it, Blue’s phone was buzzing and alerting her that she had to get back to work.

“It was nice to see you all today,” Blue said with a small smile. “Especially with you here, Adam, we’ve missed you.”

There was a small hint of guilt in the way Adam laughed now. “Yeah, definitely. I’ve missed you guys too.”

Gansey pulled their group in for a tight hug in front of the cafeteria doors— much to the annoyance of a few men and women wearing fancy grey suits, something Gansey either didn’t notice or didn’t care about. “We must do this again before Adam returns to DC!” he said, beaming.

 _Well, some of us will definitely be seeing each other before then_ , Ronan thought, bemused. Sometimes he felt bad that Gansey had no clue about his or Adam’s standings as superheroes— he knew Blue was one, but that was because they lived together— but he reminded himself it was for the best. If Ronan told him, the information would make it to Declan in no time and Ronan would be on the receiving end of yet another lecture about the dangers of having people know his identity.

(He’d promised himself that he would tell Gansey one day. When that would be though, he wasn’t sure.)

Blue and Adam nodded in agreement and Ronan shrugged. Secretly, he was hoping it’d be soon. There was no telling how much longer they would have this sort of luxury with all the Kineticus bullshit happening.

With that, Blue walked back to the building she worked in and Gansey started across the parking lot to his car. That left only Ronan and Adam, who looked at each other for a long moment.

“So,” Adam said casually. “You have anything else planned for the rest of the day? Watching art? Saving children?”

Ronan shrugged. He’d taken the afternoon at the gallery off and had nowhere else to be. “Nope. I’m a free man until Declan comes whining again. Why?”

“I was thinking of going to Cabeswater,” Adam said, staring at the ground. “Was wonderin’ if you wanted to come too.”

“Oh.” Ronan blinked a few times. Then, quickly, he added, “Uh sure I guess. Like now?”

“If you want to,” Adam said. “I’ve got nowhere else to be.”

Ronan nodded. “Right. Uh do you want to drive or walk? It’s actually pretty close to here.”

Adam looked at the sky then at Ronan. “Just a few blocks won’t hurt, we can walk.”

“Cool, let’s go then, I guess.”

Ronan dropped his jacket into his car and then started down the sidewalk, Adam following after him. Only once Ronan had made this specific walk, but he felt pretty confident navigating regardless. It was like Cabeswater was calling him back like a beacon.

The two men were silent as they went, the only sound being that of an occasional car racing by or a bird chirping. It was comfortable apart from when their fingertips or arms occasionally brushed into each other. Every bit of contact made Ronan’s heart pound dangerously fast, made him want to take Adam’s hand or portal himself somewhere far, far away.

Five minutes later, Ronan diverted from the sidewalk and started across the grass to a wire fence. Adam didn’t hesitate to follow, though he asked in bemusement, “Are we breaking and entering?”

“Of course,” Ronan replied. “You know me, the upstanding law breaker.” He approached the fence and pushed at it lightly. Instead of bouncing back, some of the wire scraped and a few feet of fence swung open like a door. Holding it open for Adam to step through, Ronan said, “It’s a shortcut Blue showed me once. Cabeswater is like right around the corner.”

Adam nodded. “Do you two come here a lot?”

Ronan scratched the back of his head. “Eh, not really. It’s been a few months since I’ve been here, but Blue found this when she started this job and just wanted to show me. C’mon, let’s go.”

“Ah,” Adam nodded. “Has it changed much since I left?”

They rounded a corner and Ronan smirked. “Why don’t you see for yourself?” he asked. With a dramatic gesture, he announced, “Welcome back to Cabeswater, Parrish.”

In front of them stood an open space far greener than seemed possible this late in the year. There were wildflowers sprouting up everywhere and trees lining the space like the ones they’d been walking through, but there were no people. Several hundred feet away was the small, rusty playground their group hung out on as teenagers, the dark green metal glistening in the sun.

This is what Ronan had expected though, so he turned to watch Adam instead. There was a variety of emotions running across his face as he took everything in. Nostalgia, joy, sadness, guilt, love. Ronan’s heart rate picked up again.

Adam crouched down and picked one of the wildflowers, frowning slightly. “It’s almost the same.”

“The flowers haven’t really been the same since you left,” Ronan muttered, averting his gaze.

Adam nodded, as if expecting that. He ran a hand through his hair and sat down fully, twirling the flower stem between his fingers. “I’m sorry I haven’t been here. I just had to get out of here.”

“Yeah, I know,” Ronan said. He plopped down as well, leaning back to stare at the sky. “I never didn’t understand.”

“Doesn’t excuse how I left,” Adam said.

Ronan hummed. “No it didn’t,” he agreed. “I was pretty fucked up after that. Your methods were a bit… harsh.”

Adam let out a small laugh. “Yeah, it was. Even with that though, I hope we can be friends again. Not just mutually-tolerant coworkers or something, but actual friends. If that’s possible I mean.”

“If you don’t up and leave again first,” Ronan muttered before he could stop it. He grimaced. “Uh, I didn’t really mean—”

“No, no, I deserve that,” Adam said, shaking his head. “I’ve not really given you a reason to let me back in beyond the whole _if we don’t get along everyone’s going to die_. Not the strongest base for a friendship, I suppose.”

They came up to the rusty swing set and sat, ignoring the way the chains groaned under the weight of two grown adult men. Ronan kicked his feet back a bit and snorted. “Still kind of worked, though, didn’t it?”

Adam’s grip on the chains holding his swing loosened a bit. He gave Ronan an analytical but not unkind glance, and nodded. “I suppose it did. The universe gave me a small bit of luck.”

The two fell into silence after that, staring out at the empty park. If not for the rhythmic sounds of groaning metal and constricting chains, Cabeswater would be mute. Ronan relished it. If he closed his eyes, he could almost pretend it was their senior year of high school again.

The thought broke him out of the calm and a frown tugged at his lips.

“Parrish,” he said quietly, feet dragging against the woodchips. “Er, Adam.”

Adam brought his swing to a halt too. Ronan could feel his gaze on him but didn’t dare look up. “Yeah?”

“Did you miss me at all when you were in DC?”

The words were so quiet that Ronan hoped Adam hadn’t heard. Even saying it quick and soft, the panging embarrassment was snaking around Ronan’s insides. He hated it. He wanted to take the words back immediately, and began to shake his head and form some sort of brush off, but was interrupted by Adam’s response.

“Yeah,” he said slowly, and Ronan finally turned to him. Adam held his gaze unwaveringly and nodded with a small, sad smile. “I did. Every single day.”

The buzzing in Ronan’s chest reached a crescendo, sizzling and loud and airy. He felt lightheaded, like he was about to fall over. Ronan wasn’t stupid, he knew exactly what it meant, and there was no longer any reason to keep fucking around and pretending as if he didn’t. There was no way to outrun this one.

In that moment, with absolute clarity with a side of dread, Ronan had finally come face to face with one very big fact: he was very much still in love with Adam Parrish.

* * *

Ronan expected there to be some sort of dramatic shift after he accidentally revealed his identity to Adam. When he saw Adam at school the next day and the other boy acted the exact same as before, Ronan was proven wrong.

And so things were fine. Outside of superhero stuff, they went on as before, just with less shiftiness when one had to abruptly leave. Once, when they got a text at the same time for a scheduled fight in half an hour, Adam even joked, “See you in a few minutes,” as he left.

There was just one problem. The same fucking problem. A problem that never wanted to go away, it seemed.

Despite the revelation that they were officially nemeses, Ronan hadn’t been deterred the slightest in his stupid crush on Adam. If anything, it made him like him even _more_ , which was incredibly unfair.

Their shared secret made the growing bond between them even stronger. Ronan got to see a side of Adam he never would have gotten to when they were Ronan and Adam, just friends from school. They had an inside joke no one else was privy to.

When out fighting each other as Greywaren and Apothecary, they would share a knowing look before punches started being thrown. Ronan would properly check out Apothecary, knowing now who was behind the mask. Every time his limbs were restrained by vines or coarse grass and their eyes would meet, Ronan’s heartbeat with more than just adrenaline.

He had it _bad_ , and Blue made sure that he knew it.

“Look at this,” she exclaimed loudly in the HQ lobby, holding up a tabloid. It depicted one of the recent fights between Greywaren and Apothecary near the zoo, a close-up of their faces. Their noses were just centimeters apart and Apothecary wore his signature smirk as Ronan said something. “Ronan. Are you aware of how… well. Y’know, gay that looks? I can’t believe you two aren’t together already, it’s ridiculous, you’re like a sad, pining—”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Ronan groaned, cheeks flaming red as he swiped the tabloid out of her hands. “Can you at least keep your fucking voice down? I don’t need the entire League, especially Declan, gossiping about my stupid crush on Adam.”

Blue snorted. “Oh, Declan definitely knows already. You aren’t that subtle.”

“Fuck off,” Ronan said, pushing her lightly. “Besides, who cares? I know _he_ knows too, and he hasn’t said shit about it so it’s pointless. I just need to get over it and everything will be fine.”

Blue’s eyebrows raised, and her head tilted to the side. “What? But he—”

“Greywaren. I’ve been looking for you, you know,” interrupted an exasperated voice.

Never had Ronan been more grateful for Declan starting one of his inane lectures. He stood up quickly, crossing his arms. “Yep. Nice talking to you, Looking Glass, I have to go now.”

Before Declan could say anything, Ronan started off towards Declan’s office, his brother following in bewilderment after a few moments. Ronan tugged the door open and plopped down. “The fuck do you want?” he asked.

“And to think, I thought you were quite excited for this,” Declan said dully as he walked around to sit in his desk chair.

“Whatever, what do I have to do now?”

Declan typed his computer password quickly and turned the monitor to Ronan. It showed a live feed of a scraggly looking old man holding a pistol and some dynamite on a lookout. There were a few people littered around behind him, all tied and some sobbing. “Hostages taken on one of the mountains by some crazy old man. Go get them, the crews will meet you there.”

A wave of disgust rolled over Ronan at the last sentence and he sneered. “But of course. What worth would be the point of a traumatizing situation of peril if we don’t have some sort of fucking video to put on YouTube of it for the people’s entertainment.”

Declan sighed. “We’ve discussed this, Ronan.”

“Yeah, whatever. I’ll be there soon,” Ronan grumbled, standing up and already leaving.

“Call if you need backup once there,” reminded Declan.

Ronan didn’t reply. _Backup_. It was just a small hostage situation, he didn’t fucking need any backup.

Twenty minutes later, Ronan was proven wrong. Very, very wrong. Maybe he did fucking need some backup.

“Fuck,” he muttered, struggling against the zip ties binding his hands.

The scraggly man and his companions had ambushed him the second he’d teleported in, disorienting him and tying him up with a cute zip tie-dynamite combo before he could so much as say _fuck you_.

He was thrown against a particularly bumpy rock roughly and glowered as one pulled out a lighter, flicking it tauntingly in Ronan’s face.

“Thanks for the warm fucking welcome,” Ronan said, not bothering to put on any cheery, swear-free show. Civilians around or not, he wasn’t a fan of this current situation. Besides, given the roughed up and terrified state of the ones Ronan could see, their thoughts probably weren’t bubbly and PG either.

“Anything for the city’s most darling superhero,” the leader taunted. Rotting teeth peeked out as he smiled and Ronan’s nose wrinkled in disgust. “It’ll be quite a show when you explode.”

Ronan’s scowl deepened. He began to summon some cataclysmic energy, but the leader waggled a finger. “Ah, I wouldn’t do that if I were you, mister superhero. Of course, if you’d like to detonate even faster then be my guest, but at least wait for the camera crew. I can already see the headline, Greywaren: _Henrietta’s darling superhero leads himself and a group of civilian hikers to their explosive doom_. A real tragedy.”

“Shut up.” Ronan tried to squirm in his zip ties, but the woman who had fastened them had no consideration for the blood circulation to his wrists. He was completely stuck, and though he may not have been showing up for physics, he knew that the man was not bluffing. If a single spark of energy touched the dynamite, it was over for all of them.

Ronan supposed if he was feeling particularly cowardly, he could summon another portal and fall back into it, but there was no way in hell he’d leave the rest of them to die. He sighed, trying to think of a way out.

There was a flash in the sky, and a helicopter came into view. A person strapped into a harness and some ropes dangled out of it with a large camera. Ronan couldn’t see them or the branding on the logo but he knew that it was the promised camera crew and rolled his eyes. Ah yes, the most important piece there. They were going to get quite the show.

Ronan had no idea how the fuck to fix this. Hell, why should he be able to? There were police officers who were supposed to be trained in this sort of shit. He was a seventeen year old in spandex. The biggest thing to worry about should’ve been another scalding look from Declan when his report card came in. The way that he felt lightheaded and dizzy and _useless_ whenever Adam was around him.

 _Adam_. God, they were supposed to hang out in a few hours, but Ronan wasn’t even going to be able to see him one last time before he died on this fucking mountain with a group of hostages he couldn’t save. It was pathetic to think, but all Ronan could think about as the man finally stopped fucking around and lit the end of the dynamite, letting the short countdown begin.

The slight twang in Adam’s voice that he tried desperately to cover up when they were at Aglionby. The way his hands moved eloquently and languidly, joints protruding and freckles mottling. The furrow between his brows whenever he was studying, and the light in his blue eyes when he solved a problem. The smile he gave, sometimes, whenever he caught Ronan staring for a bit too long, as if he knew exactly what he did to Ronan.

Suddenly, Ronan’s spiraling came to a halt. A thought came to him— what would Adam do? Adam, the most brilliant fucking person he’d ever met, the best supervillain and student in Henrietta, who would know exactly what to do in this situation.

Some of the panicked fog cleared from around Ronan’s thoughts, and he forced himself to breathe normally. He scanned the situation, the terrified faces of the small group only two feet away. A young boy was sitting the closest to him, hands also bound and silently sobbing as he stared back. Ronan forced himself not to lose his shit.

 _Think, goddammit,_ he told himself.

Then, he caught sight of the cliff behind him and an idea formed. Pushing down the dread, Ronan turned his neck back to his captor, cackling like a meth addict or a fucking C-grade action movie antagonist. “Hey, you’ve got us all up here because I’m leverage against the League, yeah?”

The man looked up, still cackling. Ronan rolled his eyes. “Why else would I, Greywaren? You believe you’re worth _anything_ else? Trust me, if I wanted to I could’ve lured anyone out. You’re simply the easiest one to hurt the League with.”

“Hm,” Ronan nodded, slowly beginning to inch around the rock and closer to the cliff. “And you’re sure of this?”

“Of course I am,” the man snapped. “Now stop the chattering, a representative will be coming by with my money at any time, or else it’s away with Greywaren forever.”

Ronan snorted. “That’s where you’re kinda wrong.”

The man narrowed his eyes. “I’m never wrong, boy.”

“Well now you are,” Ronan shrugged. The zip ties dug further into his wrists but he ignored it, finally around the rock and only inches from the precipice. “See, there’s something you gotta know about the League. They don’t give a fuck about _anyone_.”

Without letting the man reply, Ronan took a deep breath and launched himself backwards. The wind screamed in his ears as he fell, down and down towards the forest below. The cliff was steeper than he’d realized, the fall was long and free, after several long seconds he still hadn’t hit the ground. His wrists began to prickle with heat as the dynamite readied for detonation, and Ronan closed his eyes, waiting for his end.

Above, the helicopter circled lower and Ronan could see the camera operator’s silhouette against the sky as they aimed the lens down at him, to catch the last moments of Greywaren before he hit the forest floor and exploded. Ronan laughed a bit to himself, closing his eyes.

 _Dad would be proud of this ending, I guess_ , he thought to himself, resigned.

He waited, the sparks painful against his wrists, but Ronan didn’t even have the energy to quickly put himself out of his misery.

Then, out of nowhere, the fall stopped. One of the tall trees reached up even higher, curving underneath him, and then Ronan was firmly caught in someone’s arms. They grunted at the impact and the tree began to lower slowly, something sharp and metal starting to saw at the zip ties. Disoriented, Ronan turned to see Adam, face full of concentration and holding a sharp dagger.

The zip ties came free and Adam didn’t hesitate as he grabbed the dynamite and began to grow a thick sphere of brambles around it, layer after layer until Ronan couldn’t see it anymore. Adam chucked it away from them with a strength Ronan wasn’t even aware he had— though perhaps it shouldn’t have been so shocking after Adam had caught him falling through the air at sixty fucking miles an hour— and turned back, breathing heavily. “Ronan, what the actual fuck.”

He wore his Apothecary uniform, but not even the dark hood and mask could hide the livid concern in Adam’s eyes. The dynamite exploded somewhere in the distance behind Adam, but he didn’t even flinch, only continued staring at Ronan. “If Declan hadn’t called me in as backup, who knows what could’ve happened? I cannot believe you sometimes, Lynch. Were you _tryin’_ to die?”

Ronan shrugged, rubbing his now freed wrists. It seemed tomorrow would be a jacket-stays-on day. “I mean, kinda? Oh don’t give me that look, you know I don’t mean it like that. If I didn’t all those people would’ve, though, I know when to be heroic or whatever the fuck.”

Adam gave him a disbelieving look and shook his head a bit. “You’re a fool. God, you’re such a fool.”

“You know it,” Ronan said weakly. “Did you get that creepy guy and his friends up there?”

“I incapacitated them well enough until another team can come in. The hostages are still there too, but they aren’t in too much danger anymore,” Adam said. “Think they weren’t expecting it to be me showing up, though.”

Ronan snorted. “Yeah, I bet. Wait, why’d Declan call you of all people to come though? He’s been on my fucking back about how bad it looks when we so much as get along, why not just get Blue?”

“I’m not really sure either,” Adam admitted. “I guess he knew to trust me to stop you from being a total moron after seeing you on the news stream.”

“Ugh I forgot about that. Being a superhero is so fucking stupid,” Ronan groaned. Then, for whatever reason, before he could stop himself, muttered, “The only good thing about it is you. Even if you keep swooping in like a knight in shining armor here to sweep me off my fucking feet or something.”

Instead of laughing or brushing it off, Adam caught his eye. He looked serious, determined, though also a bit playful. His head tilted to the side. “Have I? Swept you off your feet yet?”

Ronan’s words caught in his throat. His heart rate began to reach alarming speed again and he could only shrug. “And what if you have?” he asked quietly, voice hoarse.

“Then I think we’re even now,” Adam said, leaning minutely closer. “’Cause you’ve already done the same to me.”

Ronan’s brows furrowed and he was about to open his mouth to reply, but before he could, Adam moved closer, hood falling back. There was a tinge of nervousness in his eyes as they searched Ronan’s, but he seemed to find what he was looking for because the next moment, soft lips covered Ronan’s.

It took a moment to get over his shock before Ronan snapped out of it, his hand coming to rest on Adam’s cheek as he returned the kiss. Fireworks exploded in his chest, a storm of emotions he’d failed to keep at bay for the past months. Ronan’s world narrowed down to the two of them, this one moment. He took a mental screenshot of it. In this moment, it felt like this feeling, this dizzying elation and infatuation, could last forever.

And it almost did.

* * *

The air was musty when Ronan and Adam stepped into the storeroom of the Main Street bookshop. “You sure this is the right place, Parrish?” Ronan asked dubiously, looking around. There were shelves of books and some papers, but no secret passages or trap doors around.

“It’s where the tip said to go,” Adam shrugged. “We don’t have much time, keep looking.”

“Where’d you even get that intel from anyway? I thought we were all incognito or some shit,” Ronan said. He picked up a glass miniature of some sort of bird that was sitting on one of the shelves, staring at it as if it had all the answers.

Adam walked over and took it. “We’re not here to mess with their stuff,” he reminded Ronan. “And I’m not entirely sure. It ended up on my desk the other day. A bit random, but since we’ve had absolutely no leads so far and people keep getting taken every day, it’s the best we have right now.”

“And if it’s fake?” Ronan asked, finding something else to mess with in here. Adam was standing terribly close and he stupidly fought down a blush as their fingers brushed.

There was a sense of deja vu every time his heart swelled from the mere sight of Adam. The jittery nausea was achingly familiar.

It was odd how, despite their growth— practically into new people— the exact same things got Ronan every time. A furrow between his brows, a smile when they agreed on something. The natural leadership and confidence Adam held as he spoke to their group, despite his claims to not see it. How he’d grimace but remain silent when he ate a sandwich with mayo. Little things that were slowly killing Ronan every second they were together.

Which, both fortunately and not, was becoming quite often.

 _Get your fucking shit together_ , Ronan mentally scolded himself, tossing a notebook back on the shelf. This wasn’t some stupid rom-com, he was acting like an idiot when he needed to _focus_.

“Then it’s fake,” Adam said. “Better to follow a wild goose chase than miss a true lead.”

“It could be a trap though,” Ronan argued. “They just… let us waltz on back here with no problem, don’t you find that kind of suspicious?”

Adam rolled his eyes, toeing at a particularly ugly woven rug in the corner. “Since when are you all suspicious and paranoid about this stuff?”

“Since I followed a gen call into a fucking superhero murder plot last year,” Ronan said, crossing his arms. “I’m not saying you’re wrong, let’s just… not rush into anything too quick. Please?”

Adam looked up, his expression odd. His head was tilted, lips slightly parted in something akin to surprise. Then he cleared his throat and looked down again. “Of course,” he said. He kicked the rug again and it rolled back, revealing a barely visible trapdoor in the floor. “Well, what do y’know, guess it wasn’t a wild goose chase after all.”

Ronan snorted. “Trap door under the rug, not cliché at all.”

“Shut up,” Adam said. He squatted down to investigate the panel, tried to dig his nails in and pull it up, but the wood didn’t move.

“Did you check the stones for a secret passage?” Ronan said sarcastically, watching Adam’s brows furrow in confusion. He looked around the small room, picking up more random shit until he found one of those front desk call bells. There was an odd tint of green on the silver bell and when he tried to pick it up it didn’t budge. Ronan rolled his eyes and started to hit it repeatedly, relishing the way Adam looked up to glare at him. He was distantly wondering why the cashier wasn’t coming back to throw them out when suddenly Adam yelped.

Ronan’s hand stilled as he looked up to see the trapdoor swinging open, narrowly missing Adam’s foot. “Huh, the fuck did you do, Parrish?”

Adam shook his head. “I dunno. I think it might’ve actually been that ridiculous bell.”

Ronan grinned, giving the bell a few more rings. “Huh, nice. You’re very welcome for that.”

“Whatever, let’s just go in,” Adam said, stepping forward to stare down the hole. There wasn’t any light under there but the rusty ladder seemed to reach down further than just the few feet of space most storage crawl spaces had. The perfect place to abduct an overeager idiot.

Ronan grabbed Adam’s wrist lightly, ignoring the way his fingers tingled. “Not too quick,” he reminded him. “You can’t deny this is sketchy as fuck.”

Adam looked ready to protest but slouched a bit, nodding. “Right, of course,” he said. “I just… I’m worried about things around here. After what happened in DC, with no one even caring, I can’t do that again, Ronan.”

Acting bolder than he felt, Ronan let his fingers slide down Adam’s wrist and grabbed his hand, squeezing lightly. Adam’s hand was no longer as calloused as it used to, but the way it fit into Ronan’s was achingly familiar. “Yeah, I know,” Ronan said quietly, willing his voice not to shake. “But _I_ can’t let that happen to you, either.”

Adam inhaled, regaining some composure. He nodded. “Thanks.” There was a pause, then he added with a small smile, “I know I’m the one who left, but you’ve changed a lot the past few years, Ronan.”

Ronan shrugged. “It happens, I guess.”

“Yeah,” Adam said. “I suppose it does. Not that it’s a bad thing, though, because in some ways you’re the exact way I left you.”

“I sure as fuck hope not,” Ronan grimaced.

He pulled out his cellphone, ignoring all the notifications that popped up on the screen, and tapped the flashlight button. Waving it over the opening didn’t reveal too much, just a bit more of the ladder. It seemed to reach down for several feet and eventually fell into shadow again.

“Well isn’t that reassuring,” Ronan sighed. “Still want to jump in there?”

Adam looked resigned. “Don’t have any other ideas, so I’m not sure what else there is to do. Let’s go.” He shoved his phone into his pocket and sat down on the floor and slid in, gripping the rusty ladder as he looked up at Ronan with a small smile that made Ronan’s chest ache. “To adventure, I guess.”

With that, Adam began to descend into the dark. Ronan watched him go further and further until he could no longer see him first with the light of the store and then the light from his phone. There was the telltale sound of Adam’s feet on the rungs of the metal ladder for a bit, but then there was silence.

It was hard to remember to breathe as Ronan waited for any sign of whether Adam was getting axe-murdered down there by Kineticus or whoever he was working with.

A minute went by. And then two, then three. Ronan was rigid and unmoving, all his attention was focused on the trapdoor. Then, finally, around minute four Ronan heard Adam call up to him.

“Lynch!” his voice echoed. “Get down here, there’s— there’s— I don’t even know. Fuck. You’ve gotta come see it for yourself.”

Ronan nearly forgot to grab his phone before throwing himself through the hole, clamoring down the ladder at a frantic pace. Adam didn’t sound hurt, just surprised and a bit scared, but that was enough to keep Ronan from going at a leisurely pace.

When Ronan’s feet finally hit the ground again, it was pitch black. The light from the storage room was a distant, minuscule hole above and let no light in. He fumbled for his phone, squinting as he tried to make out his surroundings.

“Uh, Parrish?” he called out as he turned on the flashlight. “You down here?”

“Ronan,” Adam replied immediately from somewhere up ahead. “I’m over here.”

Ronan pointed his phone around the room. There were bare but grimy concrete walls all around, the ceiling stretched up into the dark with the ladder. And then there was Adam, looking simultaneously excited and horrified in front of a metal door propped open with his foot.

He put a hand up to shield against the light, and something slightly white and translucent shone on Adam’s hand.

“Parrish, what the fuck is on your—” Ronan began, stepping closer but not lowering the light.

“There’s something in here you need to see, c’mon,” Adam cut off, voice urgent. He opened the door wider and urged Ronan inside after him.

The room was surprisingly well lit by various track lights illuminating the space with an eerie blue. In the center there was one large table, metal tools stained crimson and shattered glass syringes strewn about. The surface was slick with the same slime-like stuff that coated Adam’s hand, and at the center of one such glob sat a haphazard stack of paper. On each side of the table was what looked to be a long strip of Velcro, placed easily to restrain four limbs. Still, that was not the most alarming part.

That award went to the translucent, coffin-like boxes lining the walls, each occupied by one unconscious person. Some of them Ronan did not recognize, but others were in all too familiar costumes. In one box close to the entry Ronan and Adam stood in, a teenage boy, battered and gaunt, stood still as a corpse. He was clad in firetruck red, and though his mask had been removed and the uniform was rumpled and dirty, Fireball’s comet insignia was clear as day on his barely moving chest.

“Motherfucker,” Ronan swore lowly. “Is this—?”

Adam nodded. “Nearly half the ones from Henrietta. That means there’s some other place we need to find too but… For now, it’s a start.”

“Fuck,” Ronan said. “Are they alive? The fuck is Kineticus doing to them?”

“I think,” Adam began. His voice cracked and he cleared his throat. “I think he’s been running some sort of experiment, extracting… something from all these people to make something with it. Those papers indicate it’s some sort of serum, having something to do with their abilities as Supers and how it is apparent in various fluids and functions.”

Ronan barked a small, terrified laugh. He moved further into the room, staring down at the table of tools and paper. “What, like some sort of mad fucking scientist in a sci-fi movie? This is insane! He can’t possibly, I dunno, drain someone’s powers or whatever the fuck. Can he?”

“At this point, I don’t know,” Adam said quietly. “I looked through some of the papers. They’re research logs— but it’s been recorded by two different people from the looks of the writing. Whatever he’s trying to do, I think he’s close.”

“What do we do now then?” Ronan asked.

“Well,” Adam said, “Now we regroup and try to figure out where to go from here. We’ve completed the first step, now we just have to get to the bottom of this. I don’t know how we can help these people today but this is a breakthrough.”

He was nodding to himself as he spoke, like he was reassuring himself just as much as Ronan. “It’s a breakthrough,” Adam repeated. “And we’re going to find out how to stop this.”

Unable to help himself, Ronan reached over and took Adam’s hand, squeezing it reassuringly. However, the smile fell from his lips almost immediately as he was reminded of the slime coating Adam’s hand still. “Ugh, gross,” he said, pulling away to wipe it on his pants. “The hell is that stuff anyway?”

For the first time down here, Adam actually cracked a smile. Despite their current situation and the terrifying lab they stood in, he actually smiled. Ronan’s disgust faded as he felt himself melt. “I’ve no idea,” Adam said, wiping off his hand as well then taking Ronan’s again. “But we can worry about that later. Let’s just get out of here.”

With that, Adam led them back out and up into the light.

* * *

“You know, you can pack a mean fucking punch when you’re using your fists,” Ronan muttered fondly, rubbing his side. He stared out at the bustling nightlife of Henrietta from above, finally freed from his Greywaren costume as he sat next to Adam on top of the warehouse.

“As can you,” Adam said, eyebrow raised. “I think you’ll manage.”

Only half an hour before, they’d been down there, hashing it out over whatever the League had framed Apothecary for. It went the same as usual, they met in the park, tossed around their powers and created a “near-death encounter” for Greywaren until they received the signal that the camera crew had everything they needed. Then, Apothecary gave some corny speech about getting Greywaren next time, they went their separate ways, then rendezvoused back at their usual place.

Ronan met Adam on the roof and greeted him with a light kiss and apology. Adam returned the kiss and rolled his eyes, then led them to the edge. It was always an amusing scene, the city’s biggest super-rivals sitting in the quiet aftermath of a battle against each other, in love and far from enemies. Stealing kisses and long glances under a sky of faded out stars.

They sat in comfortable silence now, letting the adrenaline drain away and let the humming of the city overtake them.

“Maybe,” Ronan shrugged, “But I think you need to kiss it better anyway.” He gave his best puppy dog look, and Adam laughed.

“You’re ridiculous, you know that?” he muttered. Despite his smile, gentle and fond as ever, there was something off with Adam as they bantered back and forth. There was something distant there, almost akin to guilt. But for what, Ronan wasn’t sure.

After a bit, he took a deep breath and decided to bite the bullet. Something was distracting Adam, and like a good boyfriend, Ronan just wanted to help. He always did. “So, uh, are you alright, man? You just seem a bit… distracted, I guess.”

It took a moment for Adam to reply. “What? Oh, yeah, I’m fine. So did you do the Latin paper that’s due next week yet? I’ve only got some notes down and—”

“Parrish,” Ronan interrupted. “You know, you really aren’t that smooth. Nice try but tell me what’s wrong.” _I care about you_.

There was a long pause, but then Adam’s shoulders hunched. Quietly he asked, “What do you plan on doing after… y’know, all this superhero stuff? And don’t give me your usual nonsense, there’s gotta be _something_ you want to do.”

Ronan looked up, brows furrowing. “What do you mean after all this superhero stuff? It’s not like we can quit or something so is there really anything to be thinking about right now. Were— were you planning to?”

Adam shrugged vaguely, not looking at him. “This won’t last forever, Ronan. Eventually we’ll all have to move on.”

“I sure as fuck hope it won’t,” Ronan scoffed, a small grin on his lips. But there was something serious about Adam’s tone, something he didn’t like too much. Still, clearing his throat, he added with a false lightness, “I can only hope not to be dead in some fucking ditch. What about you? Little old Henrietta not enough for the brilliant Adam Parrish anymore?”

Adam turned to him, giving him one of those indecipherable looks. Ronan was fond of them usually, but there was the same air of unease now. He shifted uncomfortably and stared down at Henrietta. After a bit of hesitation, Adam said, “Ronan, I— Never mind, it’s nothing. Forget I said anything, try and keep the morbidness down for a little while.”

Ronan wanted to protest, but Adam started up again about Latin and thus the topic was changed. Ronan allowed it, playing along for the next few hours. By the time he returned home with kiss-bitten lips and a foggy brain begging for a bit of sleep, it was nearly forgotten in the back of his mind. And yet, he couldn’t entirely shake the terrible sinking feeling that something bad was about to happen.

* * *

The meeting that followed their discovery was filled with the same outrage and horror that Ronan felt, most of it coming from Blue.

“That’s absolutely ridiculous, we have to go back in and do something!” she’d said, standing up. Her hands were shaking as Ronan watched them ball into fists. “I don’t know about y’all, but I don’t want to get dragged into that creepy torture lab and get experimented on. I don’t want anyone to. Why are we just sitting here instead of actually doing something?”

“Looking Glass,” Declan said calmly. “Though I understand your concern, I think that it was correct for Apothecary to first call this meeting instead of jumping straight into the action. We don’t want to be too hasty here. Kineticus is dangerous and we don’t have many people on this team to throw into danger without plan, if you couldn’t tell.”

“No, I think she’s right,” Carmen spoke up, arms crossed. “If we want to act, we have to act now. Send a group in to get more information, maybe we can get some samples from the lab.”

“Or destroy it,” Chameleon added.

“I am not sure if that’s a very good idea,” Oracle hummed pensively. “However, it _is_ better than doing nothing.”

Declan sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You know what? Fine, but I am not going to be a part of this.”

“Why the fuck are you part of it to begin with?” Ronan asked his brother, brows raised. He grinned at the way Declan’s eye twitched but turned back to the table. “But yeah, they’re right. We’ve gotta do something here, so what’s the plan, boss?”

Blue gagged. “Please don’t call him that, it’s just weird knowing you guys were boning. Probably are again, too given how in love you act. Ick.”

Chameleon snorted in laughter. “For real?”

“Did you not know?” Blue asked, hand coming to rest over her heart.

“Oh god,” Ronan groaned, knowing exactly where this was about to go. He glared at Blue but she only grinned and began her story, hands gesturing.

“They were _completely_ in love in the old days,” she began. “Technically they were rivals but that’s what made them so lovey dovey, I think. Even outside they had the most ridiculous—"

Adam cleared his throat loudly. “That’s enough of that, Looking Glass,” he said. Though his hood was up, shadowing his face, Ronan could tell his face was red. “Anyway. Disregarding my personal life and back to more appropriate topics, a few of us can return to this bunker tomorrow. Looking Glass, Chameleon, you seem to get along well. You two can go, along with Oracle. Gather information, avoid Kineticus, and get back. Think you can do that?”

Blue shrugged. “Sure.”

Chameleon sighed. “Can we at least knock something over? Set some paper on fire?”

“No fire, we’ll need evidence,” Declan spoke up.

“Aw, you’re no fun,” Chameleon said. “Just a little? Maybe some theft for fun?”

“Why would you want to take the bloody syringes?” Declan asked, brows furrowed.

Ronan sighed. He didn’t have time for his brother’s weird… flirting, or whatever it was. “Okay whatever, just go in tomorrow and get some information. It should go fine but if something fucks up and there is an axe murderer down there waiting for you, we can just act as backup here.”

To his surprise, Ronan was met with agreement. He caught Adam’s eye and Adam nodded. _Good job_ , he mouthed. Ronan looked away. He involuntarily thought back to Blue’s gossip earlier.

 _Given how in love you act_. Did they? Blue had bias of course, she loved to make them miserable, but what if she was telling the truth. Ronan knew on his part it was probably true, when he was in love he did not hide it very well. That is, if you knew where to look, anyway.

But Adam, he was another story. He had _left_ Ronan, ghosted him out of nowhere. He chose college over communication, because Ronan wasn’t worth giving a heads up to. And yet sometimes when they were alone like down in the bunker, it felt like old times. When Adam looked at him, it felt like he still believed. In his love, his potential, everything.

After they all left the warehouse and Ronan was done with a day of gallery sitting and superhero duties, he found himself staring at the dark ceiling and _hoping_. Perhaps it was his imagination, but perhaps there was a chance for them to start again.

That thought haunted him into the next day, leaving Ronan in a haze even as he met Adam, Declan, and Carmen to wait it out while Blue, Chameleon, and Oracle went to the bunker.

Ronan plopped down into his usual chair with a sigh. “How long is this going to take again?”

“As long as it needs to,” Declan said snippily. “This is a very important mission and if it takes them multiple hours then that’s how long it’ll take.”

Ronan rolled his eyes. “You’re just being bitchy because you don’t like that Chameleon went,” he sneered.

Declan straightened. “What makes you think that?”

“You wanna fuck or something, as much as it disgusts me to see, it’s quite obvious,” Ronan said, nose wrinkling. They were at least somewhat subtle, he supposed, but even with his mind elsewhere during these meetings, he did not miss the glances that were exchanged there. Disgusting.

“What— no,” Declan began, face turning red. He cleared his throat and attempted to recollect himself, but it was too late and Ronan was snickering. “And it’s not like you—”

“Not this again,” Ronan said loudly before Declan could finish. He tilted back in his chair and threw out a hand to cover Declan’s mouth, ignoring his brother’s protest. What the fuck was up with everyone deciding that Ronan’s ridiculous crush on Adam was the hottest topic recently?

Declan tried to push away Ronan’s hand with his arm, but it remained firm. After a few moments, he sighed in resignation and stilled. Ronan smiled sarcastically and retracted his hand. “Thanks, bro,” he said jovially.

“Alright, now that you two are done with that,” Adam said, pressing his hands together. There was a gleam of amusement in his smile, but when his and Ronan’s eyes met, he tried to push it into something more professional.

“He started it,” Ronan pouted.

“Very mature, Greywaren,” Declan said. “And for the record, _you_ started it.”

Ronan stuck his tongue out but turned back to Adam. He knew that Adam knew it was all in good fun, but Adam got a bit snippy if talked over. “False but irrelevant. Apothecary, you were saying.”

Adam shook his head fondly. “Thanks. Right, so we should be able to still have communications with the group right now. The bunker is too far down for any reception but Oracle has stayed above in order to keep contact. Until they find anything we’ll just be hanging out in here, but once they do we’ll be moving out to the meeting location. Oracle has chosen to contact Carmen, so when she gives us the signal we should get moving.”

Ronan looked up and for the first time noticed that only Declan and Adam were in the room with him. “Uh, where’d she go anyway?” he asked. “Unless she’s been smited or something, Carmen ditched.”

“What, no, she’s been sitting right— here,” Declan said, finishing with confusion. The chair next to him was vacated and Carmen was nowhere in sight.

“Huh, weird, did either of you see her leave?” Adam asked, looking around the empty room. He started towards the back door. “She could’ve just stepped out for a moment but the doors are pretty loud in here.”

Ronan rolled his eyes. “Clearly not. What the fuck happened?”

“Well—” Adam began. He pulled on the door handle and received a loud clang. The door did not budge. He tried again, this time using both hands, but whatever was holding the door just rattled again. Adam tensed. “Ronan,” he said.

“Got it,” Ronan replied, already hopping up to try the front door. He had a pretty solid idea about what was going to happen, but swore loudly anyway when the door didn’t move. “What the hell?” he shouted, kicking at it.

Sighing, Ronan reached out to the cataclysmic realm, trying to create a portal for himself. The one that appeared was small but manageable and he ducked into it, hoping that the street would greet him on the other side. Instead, he nearly walked straight into the far wall. “What the fuck?” he nearly shouted. This hadn’t happened before, not in the years he’d had this power. At the very least he could always teleport out of a building, but now he was just… trapped.

Once more, Ronan made a portal, stepping through only to be spat back out inside. Then he did it again. And again. And again. Each time, he only ended up in a slightly different place in the room.

“I don’t think that’s helping very much,” Declan said, pulling out his phone. Ronan flipped him off.

“Alright, so it seems we’re trapped in here for now,” Adam said, grimacing. “Do you think it was Carmen?”

Ronan scoffed and headed back towards their table. “Why would she do that? Is she like, secretly working for Kineticus or something? She easily could have just gotten locked out and had nothing to do with this.”

Declan hummed. “Unlikely. I’ve received an email from her just now.”

“Was there something she can’t just say while in the same room?” Ronan said, brow raised. Still he leaned into his brother’s space to read it, ignoring Declan’s elbow digging into his ribs.

“Huh, ‘It’s for the greater good, my apologies. Enjoy the cell tower power outage,’” Ronan read off. “Well that’s kinda ominous.”

He was startled away from Declan’s phone by the sound of Adam’s foot colliding with one of the table legs, making the entire thing shake. “Goddammit,” Adam muttered to himself. “Fuck.”

“Oh, hell no,” Ronan said, clambering up quickly to stand in front of Adam, turning him to meet Ronan’s eye. Without thinking, Ronan put his hands firmly on Adam’s shoulders, one finger twirling briefly in one of the shadowed locks of hair poking out of Adam’s hood. “We’re not doing this, Parrish. I know how you are when you’re spiraling and you’d be pissed at me if I let you do that now. Maybe Carmen was not the best choice, but you didn’t fucking know that at the time, okay?”

“That’s bullshit and we both know it, Ronan, I should’ve been more careful, I shouldn’t have just let her and Oracle and Chameleon walk in without really checking because I was so desperate,” Adam said angrily. “I fucked up here.”

Ronan sighed. “Okay sure, yes you did. _But_ , don’t give me that look, that doesn’t mean you can’t fix it too. Once we can get out of here, we’ll walk up and kick Kineticus’s ass, you hear me?”

“But Blue, she went down there with Chameleon and Oracle,” Adam said, shaking his head. “Carmen knew the plan, she was there when we were making it. We just led her right into the damn trap. How am I supposed to fix _that_?”

“Truthfully,” Ronan said wincing, “I have no fucking clue. But we’re gonna figure it out, whether you like it or not. Just wait a bit longer, yeah?” One of Ronan’s hands slid from Adam’s shoulder and grabbed his hand instead, squeezing. He was positive Adam could feel the thrum of his heart even through layers of cloth, but at this moment he didn’t care.

Adam studied him for a moment but then squeezed back. “Yeah, we’re gonna figure it out,” he repeated in barely a whisper. It was almost more to himself than it was to Ronan, but Ronan grinned anyway.

From behind them, Declan cleared his throat again awkwardly. “I’d tell you to get a room, but I’m afraid this is the only one so instead I ask you to please not continue with your rekindling romance in my presence. I am happy for you, but I’d really rather not have to be here for it.”

This time, Ronan didn’t even object. Instead he just rolled his eyes. “Fuck off,” he said. Ronan was still feeling anxious about the entire situation, but Adam’s small bark of laughter, thrumming through Ronan’s bones as their hands remained intertwined, was enough to remind him that they still had a bit of hope, and once they got the fuck out of here, Kineticus was done for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and thats a wrap there. hope to be back soon,, til then you can catch me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/adverbialnouns) or [tumblr](http://adverbialstarlight.tumblr.com)!! i've got some fun new events starting up if you like podcasts

**Author's Note:**

> art in this chapter is by [Vy](https://ladvy.tumblr.com/) and [Cami](https://gouachemole.tumblr.com/)! check out more of their incredible art by clicking the following links :D


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